Colin Creevey and the Search for a Hero
by minerva5
Summary: CoS written entirely from Colin Creevey’s POV. Colin's life as a latchkey kid in a Liverpool slum takes a dramatic turn one day when an owl arrives bearing a mysterious letter. Colin can’t wait to get to Hogwarts! But how will he afford tuition?
1. Chapters 1 to 6: An owl with a letter ch...

Colin Creevey and the Search for a Hero

Chapter One: A New Poster

Colin Creevey woke up suddenly when his brother shook him.  

"Wake up!  Won't you hurry now, Colin, we've already missed half the match!"  

Colin felt torn between disappointment in himself that he wasn't able to wake up earlier, even to see the World Cup quarterfinal, and his overwhelming urge to fall back asleep immediately.  A quick glance at the clock told him that if this weren't July, he'd have already been at school two hours by this time.  He sat up in bed, noticing the way the sun was streaming in through the raggedy curtains of the Liverpool flat and illuminating his new poster tacked up over the bed.

The wall over the bed had a tremendous crack in it, not to mention a brown smudge from a cockroach once squished there, so Colin had kept it covered with a poster or picture ever since he moved in here three years ago.  At first, it had been a big framed photo from his parents wedding that he had found in his grandparents' garage- but eventually his dad had taken notice and objected, telling Colin the marriage was certainly nothing that brought back pleasant memories for anyone.   Dad tossed the photo into the wheelie bin and told Colin to grow up.  Then Colin cut a color photo out of the newspaper of Margaret Thatcher, but several of his dad's friends seemed to object to that one and it ended up in the fireplace.  Finally, Colin had decided on a big Jurassic Park poster, which his brother Dennis adored.  But Colin wanted something- well, _real- there had to be someone out there worth admiring, after all- so when the star of Britain's football team led them all into the quarterfinal, he decided that a big poster of Henry Mann was perfect.  He'd spent two weeks of allowance to get it, and he loved the way the bright white paper looked against the grayish wall, so alive…._

Colin yawned, blinked several times, and wandered into the kitchen to pour himself a huge bowl of sugared chocolate cereal, spilling a bunch of milk in his rush to join his brother at the telly.  He looked around vaguely for a sponge to mop it up, but the sponge was hard to locate under the mounds of unwashed dishes and pots that cluttered the countertop.  He turned his attention to the game.

Britain was winning over Portugal, 2 to 1.  Henry Mann had the ball and was moving quickly down the field, swerving past the opposition.  Then he met up with a player who got the better of him and kicked the ball away to a Portuguese teammate.  Henry Mann kicked the ball thief in the shins, hard, and the ref called a foul.  Colin frowned and wondered whether bad sportsmanship was something that always came together with stardom.

Just then his dad came home, carrying plastic trays of empty milk bottles and tracking in a handful of pebbles since he didn't pause to wipe his boots on the doormat.

"Hey dad! We're winning the match!" chimed Colin.

"Yeah, so I heard on the car radio," said his dad, walking to the kitchen table.

"And Mann just got a warning card," added Dennis excitedly.  Colin knitted his brows.

"That stupid git," said his dad, and then "Now, look here, which one of you make all this mess?  Milk everywhere, dripping on the floor, and nobody even bothered to clean it up-" he picked up a towel and threw it at the boys.  "C'mon now."  

"Sorry dad," said Colin, disturbed by the way the stiff towel seemed to have its folds dried into it and wrinkling his nose at the smell.  Being a milkman, Colin's dad was rather touchy about wasting milk, even if he wasn't perturbed in the least by the condition of his kitchen.  Colin's mom had left him some four years ago now, and his dad wasn't exactly living the high life with his boys.  More and more people were starting to get their milk from the supermarket – convenience evidently being more important than how fresh the milk was in today's busy world- and his clientele dwindled every year.  It seemed like the only people left on his delivery list were either elderly or overly frazzled upper class moms who hated bundling up the baby for a trip to the marketplace in the car.

Mum always said dad was a loser who would never amount to anything.  But then, mum had purple hair and a nosering and spent her time moving some rock star's drum set from concert to concert across the globe.  Mum had even given Colin a poster of the drummer when she heard about the wedding photo up on the wall.  Colin had pitched that poster into the fireplace himself.

After dad had loaded his crates into the appropriate corner, he immediately grabbed his keys again.  "I'm off to the Wirral now, so mind yourselves, all right?  Don't make a nuisance of yourselves."

"Yes, dad…." they intoned.

"And Colin, here's a spot of cash for your school uniform.  Ask Mrs. Godfrey to go shopping with you or something.  Since I've got a few quid I thought you ought to have it before it burns a hole in my pocket again.  I'm off!"  His dad stomped out the door without waiting for an answer.

"Bye dad," they said to the slamming door.  Colin felt very appreciative that his dad had remembered the money for the uniform.  He took the eleven plus last year and would be starting secondary school in the fall.  Last time he needed money for something for school, dad didn't have even a pence and Colin had ended up washing cars to scrape enough cash together.  Colin turned his attention back to the telly.  Mann had gotten carded out and was about to get into a brawl with the ref, and Portugal had tied the score.

CHAPTER TWO:  OUT AND BACK AGAIN

Hours later, Britain had lost the quarterfinal 4 to 2, thanks largely to the misconduct of Henry Mann.  Colin and Dennis decided to head out to see Mrs. Godfrey and hopefully go shopping before Dad needed that money back again. 

Mrs. Godfrey was an elderly woman who lived with her daughter in one of the other flats in their big complex.  She was also the only person who hung around the complex in the daytime who didn't look like, as dad put it, "someone your mum would have taken to".

They knocked on the door politely and waited for the usual very long time while she hobbled over to the door with her cane.  She opened the door and saw that familiar cringing sort of smile that she always had when she saw them.  "Oh, how lovely, the Creevey brothers again!  Shall I get us some tea and shortbread?"

"Shortbread!" said Dennis, as though he'd never had such a treat.  "Oh, yes, please!"

Colin smiled and shushed Dennis with a glance, and then with equal enthusiasm said "Tea would be – er- lovely, Mrs. Godfrey- but actually we were hoping that you were up for a shopping trip.  I need a uniform for secondary school.   Er, that is, if you feel up to it."

If Mrs. Godfrey didn't appreciate being used as an occasional unpaid babysitter, she did manage to hide it fairly well.  It wasn't as if Colin and Dennis needed much looking after, and they were well-behaved boys.  But they did get a bit too much for her to handle sometimes.  Once they accidentally knocked her over during a Frisbee game and ever since then she seemed a bit frightened that another park adventure might mean a broken hip or worse if she fell again.  But going shopping together was different; it was something that helped everyone out.  She had them to escort her across the street and help her avoid the puddles, and their sharp eyes could read all the tiny price tags and tell her if the blouse in the secondhand store had a stain she hadn't noticed.  On the other hand, it was hard for Colin and Dennis to get any help from the storeclerks when they had to buy things.  The only attention they would find was all the people who would ask if they were lost or the ones who watched them so closely it was obvious they suspected shoplifting.  The presence of Mrs. Godfrey seemed to help everything go much smoother.   Often she would even tuck in a bit of her own money to help get them nicer things, when she thought they weren't looking, which Colin always felt very guilty about.  But today, Mrs. Godfrey smiled and shook her head.

"Oh, not today, love.  I've got a doctor's appointment and I'd rather not wear myself out too much beforehand.  But," she turned to Dennis- "here's a bit of shortbread for each of you, never mind the tea, I'm sure you'd rather be out and about than cooped up in here with me.  And I imagine you'll get along fine shopping for your uniform- and you'll certainly get there faster without me holding you back," she added, winking.

They thanked her for the shortbread politely and left her flat, wandering toward downtown.  Their first stop was at the corner store to get some soda.  Dad always insisted that they drink milk, so soda was a treat that their meager pocket money often went toward.  Since Colin had spent all his money on the poster, Dennis would pay for the sodas for both of them.  _He's a really good brother, really, thought Colin.  They could see a group of older boys from the neighborhood clustered around the cash register, talking as they eyed the cigarette display.  And there was the nervous balding storekeeper, trying to pretend he wasn't watching them closely and hovering protectively around the cigarettes.  As they approached Colin could hear the boys' conversation._

"… don't know why they let Mann on the team at all.  He's all puffed up ego, but look at it now, no goals, carded out of the game even after a warning, he's just pathetic."  Said a tall dark haired teen.

Then a blond boy smirked and said quietly, "Oh, look it's the creepy Creeveys."  None of the other boys seemed to want to disagree.  A few made retching gestures or snickered.  Colin winced.

"Yeah, Mann really blew it today," the blond boy continued on, more loudly.

"Hullo, Ian!" said Dennis brightly.  A glance at Dennis told Colin he hadn't overheard Ian's first comment.  Colin decided to play it cool.

Ian eyes them with a smirk.  "And what are you two up to today?"

 "Colin's starting at secondary school and.." began Dennis cheerily before Colin could step on his toe to shush him.

"Secondary school?  Him?  You're not serious!  Going to Worcester, are you?  Well, you'd better be careful, Creevey.  Honestly, you're so small that I might mistake you for an ant and walk right over you." said Ian in a joking but somewhat menacing tone.

Colin was, as a matter of fact, quite small for his age.  But, he was about to turn eleven next week and was indeed supposed to go to Worcester, the local secondary school.  It was rumored to be a rough place, and Colin wondered if Ian would be one of the first to try beating up on him.  He was sure he'd manage all right, though.  After all, he'd been taking care of himself and Dennis for years, he knew how to stop a nosebleed and dose a bruise with witchhazel, and the injury was usually gone before Dad even came home to notice.  The other boys weren't as good at doctoring their injuries and were usually doubly mad when Colin showed up the next day not at all worse off for the beatings he'd taken.  So Colin had learned to avoid trouble, and to avoid Ian.

"Yeah, see you at school in the fall.  We've got to go.  C'mon Dennis." said Colin, forcing a smile.  Once he and Dennis were outside he said, "Let's go home.  I don't feel much like shopping after all."

"But why Colin?" asked Dennis with wide, innocent eyes.  "Why can't we stay and talk with Ian and Michael and all them?"

Colin hesitated.  Obviously Dennis hadn't picked up yet on the fact that they weren't wanted.  It was a feeling Colin was quite used to, really.  His parents' custody battle, for example, had been over who had to watch the boys- neither parent wanted them, and finally their paternal grandparents stepped in to provide a home for their son and grandsons, so dad ended up stuck with watching the boys.  And then a short while later they had to leave their granddad's house, but by then mum was in America so dad had to bring them with him to the flat he rented.  But Dennis, who was two years younger, was just young enough to have not followed what was going on.    Dennis was still blissfully unaware of the nastier details of the custody battle or the sneers of Ian's gang- and Colin thought it best that things stay that way as long as possible.

"Nah, Ian's got no brains.  I'd rather just hang out with you.  Hey, Dennis- let's go play Tomb Raider on Nintendo!"

"Oh, yeah, cool!" said Dennis.

CHAPTER THREE- THE AFTERNOON POST

The fancy Nintendo and color TV had been a gift from their grandparents when they moved into this flat.  It wasn't a Christmas or birthday present or even a housewarming present, really.  The tag had read "to my miracle grandbabies".  While it was true that it was a miracle they had grandchildren at all given their only son's lack of sensitivity to women, Colin and Dennis knew that grandma was referring to the way they had repeatedly fallen out of the high treehouse in granddad's backyard and ended up with only minor sprains. Granddad and grandma lived in what used to be a country estate in Birkenhead that was rapidly becoming assimilated into the Wallasey metropolis.  Colin and Dennis just didn't think falling out of the treehouse was a big deal and had even made it something of a game to jump or fall out just as grandmother was walking by in order to frighten her.  She didn't think it was funny, she would scream and rush over to find them laughing.  That was when they were living there, for a brief time after the divorce.

Then one day they fell out in front of dad and granddad, giving both of them a fright; but then Dad and granddad got into a row, each accused the other of not watching or disciplining Colin and Dennis.  Soon they were shouting over whose job it was to raise children and whose fault it was that the family was living there at all.   About a week after that they moved into this flat with dad.   And the Nintendo was probably Grandma's way of making it up to them after granddad demolished the treehouse, which miffed Dennis and Colin greatly.  There was nowhere else to play at Granddad's, all the rooms in the house had delicate porcelain figurines, and the rooster would attack them whenever they weren't looking if they tried to play outside.  They hardly saw their grandparents at all, anymore.

Here in Liverpool, of course, they had no yard at all and being outside at all was usually unpleasant.  So Nintendo was as good a way as any to spend a day.

After they had been playing a while they heard Mrs. Godfrey getting out of her daughter's car, presumably coming home from the doctor's.  "Shoo!  Go on now, shoo!" Colin heard her saying.  Colin was curious and took a peek out the window.  There was Mrs. Godfrey, standing in front of the big metal grid of mailboxes, apparently trying to check her mail but perturbed by a large tawny owl that was perched on top of the mailboxes.  It stared at Mrs. Godfrey and refused to move.  

"Hey Dennis!  There's a big owl on the mailboxes, come and look!" said Colin.

Mrs. Godfrey yelled at it and almost lost her balance waving her cane at it, and then she cautiously moved forward to unlock her mail slot and remove its contents, keeping her eye on the owl as if expecting it to attack.  It didn't.  Then she limped away rather quicker than usual with backward frowning glances at the owl as she went.

"Wow, a real owl!  I've never seen one from this close before, have you, Colin?  Let's go check the mail and get a closer look," said Dennis, bouncing with energy,

"I've never seen one up close either.  Wow, how cool!" said Colin.

The owl stared at them as they bounced downstairs and approached the mailboxes.  _Do owls always stare at people?  Wondered Colin.  __It looks almost as though it recognizes me or something; it looks friendly.  He was its great amber eyes and ruffled feathers and smiled._

"Look at those talons!" gasped Dennis, edging back a bit.  Long and probably very sharp, the talons looked odd splayed out flat on top of the metal mailbox with nothing to grasp.  

"Awww, he won't hurt us," said Colin, putting in the key to open his mail slot.   Instantly and gracefully, the owl moved, ruffling its feathers and picking up a letter in its beak- _where did that come from, did he just pull that out from under his wing?  Thought Colin, astonished.  The owl dropped the letter into the Creevey's open mail slot and flew up onto a nearby lamppost, looking quite pleased with itself, Colin thought._

"Wow!  Amazing!  Did you see that?" asked Dennis "That owl- it- with the letter-"

"Amazing!" agreed Colin.  "Yeah, I saw it too!".  They looked at each other and smiled, then Colin looked back up at the owl.  "But I bet nobody would believe us again.  Another secret, mate?"

"All right then, Colin," said Dennis, sighing.  "But it's so amazing!"

The Creevey brothers had seen a number of unusual things over the years, like giant purple buses or disappearing buildings.  Once they even found a photograph in the gutter of someone who was moving inside the picture!  Their dad took them and the picture to a doctor who told them they were imagining things and it was all a manifestation of the deep emotional trauma of an unstable childhood, and that eventually they would get over this phase.  And when they got home their dad chucked the photo into the fire and told them never to talk nonsense again.  Of course, he and Dennis knew very well that these things were real, but if nobody else could see them, they had to agree that sharing their adventures was probably not the best idea, particularly if it would lead to more visits to the condescending doctor.

_But the owl was real, thought Colin.  __Otherwise I wouldn't have seen Mrs. Godfrey shooing it away.  And what about the letter? He wondered.  He glanced up at the owl, and felt a thrill of excitement as he darted forward and grabbed the mail from the slot.  The letter felt real, all right.  It was yellow parchment with a purple wax seal on the back with a letter H.  Then he turned it over and read the bright green ink on the face of the envelope._

Mr. Colin Creevey

The bedroom by the kitchen

62 Grafton Street #8B

Liverpool Lancashire

"Wow, Dennis… this letter is for me," he whispered.  He started walking upstairs to the flat as if in a trance, dropping the rest of the mail on the floor just inside the door and walking to the window where he could see the owl watching him.

"Colin, aren't you going to open it?  Who's it from?  Is the owl still there?  This is so amazing," said Dennis, who was pawing through the remainder of the mail as if hoping there was a similar letter for him in there somewhere.

Without pausing to think about who the letter was from, still enjoying the concept that that he had just received a letter delivered by an owl, he ripped open the envelope.  Inside was a letter written on the same yellow parchment in the same green ink.  Colin read,

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugawump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Creevey,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. 

Term begins on September 1.  We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

A second page listed his required school supplies, which included things like a cauldron, a black pointed hat, and several magic books.  A third page was more confusing than anything else.

To Students from Non-Magical Families,

Hogwarts recognizes that those of you who come from non-magical (muggle) families may find your acceptance letter comes as something of a shock, and that you have special concerns as you begin your magical education.  We can assure you that talented students do not find that their late inclusion in the magical community is any hindrance to their success at Hogwarts or later in life.  According to the International Confederation of Wizards, Hogwarts is one of the finest magical schools in Europe, with over 1000 years of tradition in educating witches and wizards.

We must ask you, however, to share the news of your magical talent with as few members of the non-magical community as practically possible beyond your immediate family.  The magical community is looked on with a great deal of skepticism, mistrust, and suspicion by non-magical peoples.  Furthermore, any magic that attracts the attention of the non-magical community is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, and is punishable by the Ministry of Magic.

Students are responsible for purchasing their school supplies prior to the start of term.  Three central locations exist where such supplies can be found readily- Diagon Alley in London, Chez Batons in Paris, and Hogsmeade Village in Scotland.  Most students find it most convenient to visit Diagon Alley with their families sometime before taking the Hogwarts Express from King's Cross Station on September 1.  A map with directions to Diagon Alley will be sent to students who send their intent to register by return owl.

We will be happy to entertain further inquiries on your behalf.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Colin and Dennis laid out the letter on the kitchen table next to a half-melted grape popsicle and silently stared at the pages with mounting excitement for several minutes.  A wizard- how cool is that?  He wouldn't have to go to Worcester or see Ian at all next year.  And if he was a wizard… that meant he could do magical things… He could use magic to get a bunch more Nintendo games to play!  He smiled.  But why stop there?  With a burst of excitement he thought about what he would do with magical power.   He could magic his dad a small fortune, magic his parents back together, magic a big beautiful house for them all to live in, with a big treehouse in the yard.  He could magic away all the things he didn't like…

So all those things he and Dennis could see that nobody else could, that probably had something to do with this.  Then he had a sudden panic- what if dad couldn't see the letter?   

"Colin, this is so awesome.  Totally amazing," said Dennis breathlessly, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," said Colin, shaking his head and unable to get a goofy grin off his face.  "I hope dad gets home soon."

CHAPTER FOUR- OWL POST

Dad considered the letter real, all right.  He could see it; he could pick it up.  The trouble was, he seemed to think it was some sort of practical joke and that Hogwarts couldn't possibly exist.

"What kind of nutter would send you something like this?"  Then he looked at the envelope.  "See? Now, look there.  It's got no stamp on it!  This couldn't have arrived in the mail.  You two really had me going for a minute here, it must have taken you all day to think that one up.  Where did you get that fancy paper from?"

Colin and Dennis looked at each other uncomfortably but eventually decided they would have to tell dad about the owl (they left out the part about it pulling the letter from under its wing).  The fact that the owl was still there on the lamppost outside seemed to bolster their case.  Eventually Colin pointed out that there was no way that his or Dennis' penmanship would ever be good enough to have written the letter, something dad had to agree was true.  Finally Dad muttered something about maybe that was why they bounced right back from any physical injury and told them he had some serious concerns about sending Colin to a magic school.  

Colin, for his part, was so delighted that Dad was allowing the possibility that the school was real, that he hardly heard his dad talk about wanting to know where the school was and how the devil they had found him at all. 

"But you know, mate, we never had the money to send you to any fancy school.  I expect even a magical school- and I'm not convinced it exists, mind you- I expect it would cost a fortune, and we just can't afford it, Colin.  You know that," he heard his Dad saying, and Colin's thoughts came crashing back into reality.

"No, dad, it's a magic school, right?  I bet they can just magic themselves as much money as they want and they won't need any from us!" he protested.

"Well, you go ahead and look into it then, I'm not going to stop you, Colin, but I'm not going to help you much either.  I'm not going into some store and asking for a cauldron, they'd think we were nutters for sure," said dad, dismissing the issue as the opened a beer and turned on the telly.

That was good enough for Colin.  Dad was never much help anyway, after all.  He glanced outside to make sure the owl was still there- it was staring at his bedroom window- and decided to write a letter for the return owl right away.  He looked around for some proper stationary but didn't find anything.  Normally he would use a paper towel, but that didn't seem the best way to impress them.  Finally, he settled on using the bottom half of a sheet of paper from one of his reports last year on the history of the Aintree racetrack.

Dear Professor McGonagall,

I intend to enroll in Hogwarts School.  My brother wants to know how to apply to start two years from now.  My dad would like to know how you knew where to find me and how you knew I had magical talent at all.  My dad also wants to know where Hogwarts is located.  Also, my dad is worried that it will cost money to attend- Hogwarts is free, isn't it?

Thank you,

Colin Creevey

He couldn't, however, find an envelope for it, so he just folded it into quarters.  He wandered outside, feeling his heart pounding and wondered how hard it would be to summon the owl.  He raised his arm and pointed at the owl and back to himself and felt amazed and powerful when the owl flew down and perched on his arm.  

"Wow…." breathed Dennis softly from somewhere on his right.  Colin admired the beautiful bird even more from so close.  He pulled out his letter and held it out to the owl, expecting it to grab it in its beak or grab it with its wing, somehow.  To his disgust, the owl held one leg out.

"Oh, gross, it's going to poop on your arm, Colin," warned Dennis.

Colin jumped back and flailed his arm until the bird flew away, looking at him with an expression he thought seemed somewhat offended.  Colin went to the mailbox, unlocked it, and dropped the letter in, looking around hopefully.   But the owl didn't come back.  Colin and Dennis waited there for a long time, until they were shivering in the cold and dad called them to come in.  Colin decided to leave the mailbox hanging open and they went to bed.

The next day there was no sign of the owl.  And the next.  Finally it was July 28, Colin's eleventh birthday, and he was starting to get really nervous.  Leaving the mailbox open with the letter in it not only showed no sign of working as a pickup, but they had to deal with neighbors trying to be helpful who kept shutting it, and they had to remove it before the postman took it away, since it didn't have a proper address on it.  

"Dennis," he said, "Let's spend today trying to find an owl, shall we?"

Dennis grinned.  "You are so lucky, Colin," he replied.

Colin privately thought he'd be lucky to find an owl, but he squelched that thought immediately and tried to stay optimistic.  After all, his optimism seemed to be his greatest asset, much of the time.

CHAPTER FIVE- OWLS IN THE BELFRY

So the question was, where to find an owl in Liverpool, in the daytime?  They visited a handful of pet stores and found parakeets and budgies, but no owl.  They did, however, purchase a bunch of dead mice to use as bait.  They thought about trying to kidnap one from the zoo, but they didn't have enough money for zoo admission and it would have been difficult smuggling the owl out in a backpack.  _After all, I managed to offend the first one without stuffing it in a backpack.  I may do just as badly, he thought.  So they went to a park, one that had some tall dense trees around one side of the green lawns, and spent hours putting dead mice around the tree trunks and squinting up into the upper branches hopefully._

The one thing they succeeded in doing, however, was horrifying some lady whose toddler picked up two of the dead mice and brought them to her mum.  The woman was causing enough of a fuss that Dennis and Colin decided they did _not want to be found in the area with a backpack full of dead mice, so they snuck off quietly to a church nearby.  Only they sort of wanted to keep an eye on their trap, so they climbed up into the steeple, which overlooked the park to keep watch._

"Hey Colin," said Dennis quietly, "Look!"

There is was, up in the church belfry, a beautiful snowy white owl.  Colin laid out several more dead mice on the floor and beckoned to the owl as he had the last one and was delighted when the owl came and landed on the floor in front of where they were sitting.  She seemed to be paying almost as much attention to the mice as she was to Colin.  He noticed that she had a rolled up letter written in purple ink tied to her right leg, though he couldn't make out the address.  He reached for it to get a better look and for a minute there thought he'd had it, as the owl protectively squawked, nipped at his finger, and backed off.

"Careful now," Colin said, more to himself than anyone else.  "I reckon she'll only give the letter to the addressee, and that's not us.  But maybe she'll take this one too."  He laid out a few more dead mice and coaxed the bird back to him by talking to it- not that he had a clue if it understood him.  "I need to get this letter to Hogwarts," he said.  "But I don't know where to find an owl.  Actually, I've never used owl post before.  Won't you please help?"  The owl seemed to understand and hooted reassuringly as it moved closer.  He rolled up his letter and tried to think fast, _what can I tie this with?  He settled on hi s shoelace, and was careful not to make any sudden moves to frighten the bird.  _

"I sure hope this works," he said, as he tied the letter to her left leg when she held it out.  He realized this was what the other owl had intended and was feeling awfully daft.  The owl feasted on the dead mice and then flew up into the belfry to finish her nap.

CHAPTER SIX- GETTING TO LONDON

Two days later, he knew his experiment had worked.  A barn owl rapped on his window one morning- he supposed the mailbox dance of the first owl was only necessary as an introduction to owl post.  He flung open the window, waking up Dennis, whose breath seemed to catch as he watched the owl soar in the window and land on his brother's arm, with a letter tied to one leg.  Colin stroked the owl and then untied the letter from her leg.  To his great disappointment, the owl headed back out the window immediately and away out of sight.

"Wow, Colin!  This is all so amazing," said Dennis, staring out the window, and then back to the space above the bed, where the poster of Mann had been replaced by the Hogwarts letter.

"Yeah, amazing," murmured Colin, feeling about to explode from excitement.

He turned his attention to the letter, which was once again addressed in bright green ink.  He ripped it open to find a new letter from Professor McGonagall, a map, and what looked like a ticket.  He began to read.

Dear Mr. Creevey,

We have received your intent to enroll in Hogwarts and are delighted that you will be joining us.  In answer to your questions, you may tell your brother that no application to Hogwarts is necessary, and that all young people with sufficient magical talent will be accepted.  Our magical quill knows where to find each of them, wherever they may be.  The location of Hogwarts cannot be disclosed for security reasons, but it is located within Britain and I can assure your family that you will be quite safe here.

Enclosed is a map to Diagon Alley, where you may wish to purchase your school supplies.  The map leads to The Leaky Cauldron, a pub in London that is a short walk from the London underground.  The innkeeper of the Leaky Cauldron, Tom, will be pleased to give you further directions to Diagon Alley upon your arrival there.

I'm afraid I must inform you that it is not considered polite to burden an owl that does not belong to you with a message that you have written.  However, I am given to understand that the school owl which was supposed to await your reply interpreted your actions to mean you did not intend to come and abandoned you before you could send your reply.  Hogwarts has paid the white owl's owner and apologized on your behalf.  In the future, school owls are available for sending messages from Hogwarts, and you can hire owls in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade or purchase one of your own for your future correspondence.

Most unfortunately Hogwarts is not free.  The annual cost is 1000 Galleons, a sum approximately equal to £3300, which covers room, board, transportation to and from King's Cross in London, and tuition.  Several scholarships are available for students of limited financial means, upon inquiry.  I have interpreted your last letter as a scholarship application and am pleased to inform you that your stay at Hogwarts this year will be covered by a generous trust set up by the Malfoy family.   In order to purchase your school supplies, funds have been placed into a vault for you at Gringott's Bank in Diagon Alley, London.  The key for your vault is enclosed.

Also enclosed is your train ticket for Hogwarts Express, which leaves from Platform 9 ¾ at King's Cross Station at precisely eleven o'clock.  Non-magical family members will not be allowed to accompany you onto the platform.  Simply walk into the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 to reach the platform.  We look forward to your arrival.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Colin dug deeply into the envelope to find the key under the ticket and smiled.  Dad would have to let him go, now!  He wondered who the Malfoy family were and pictured someone like Mrs. Godfrey.  He would have to thank them, once he had hired an owl properly.

                Colin was so excited; he wanted to head to Diagon Alley immediately.  But obviously that was impossible, it takes some time to travel from Liverpool to London- and more troubling, it look money.  Convincing his dad to drive him all the way to London was out of the question; Dad never got a day off work.  There was always the train, but then how would he pay for the rail ticket?  Even with the child discount, it would be a good sixty pounds for a round trip ticket.  He decided he'd better stick with one way, and hope he could get his school supplies on the cheap and save enough scholarship money to get back at the end of the year.  He already had ten pounds from dad for the school uniform (since dad forgot to ask for it back) which meant he only had twenty pounds to go.  He could get more than that in s few days of washing cars, he was sure of it.

The next day, as he gathered together a bucket, a few sponges and a big poster (Carwash! only £2!) he called out to Dennis, "Eh, are you coming along?"

                "In a while," said Dennis.  Colin sighed.  Dennis seemed to always share his excitement for everything.  He hadn't noticed until just now how subdued he'd been lately.  He supposed it must be very hard on poor Dennis, to be left out.  But he didn't want anything to come between them- surely Dennis understood he had to get to Hogwarts- but he couldn't think of the right thing to say.

                "All right, see you in a while then," he called on his way out the door, heading for the petrol station on the corner.  

                The petrol station owner, Bert, was a friendly enough guy.  He was a beefy man with a bristly mustache who seemed sympathetic- but was always looking for another way to make money.  He and the Creeveys had a deal, that for every £2 carwash, Bert would get £1 for providing the space and water.  Business was always a bit slow, he spent loads of time standing by his sign and leaping around to attract the attention of passing cars, but Colin knew he'd get there eventually.  Ironically, the older he got, the more difficult it was to get the cars to stop- even though he knew, as a matter of fact, that he was getting better at washing cars every year.  By the start of lunchtime Colin and Bert were each ten pounds richer, and Dennis came along to help with the lunchtime crowd.  It was a crowd indeed, by the end of the lunch hour a very wet and tired Colin had washed ten more cars.  He was starting to catch a chill from his wet T-shirt, so he asked Bert if he could come back tomorrow to earn the rest of his cash, paid Bert his share, and he and Dennis headed home.

                On their way into the complex they saw Mrs. Godfrey walking toward them.  "Well!" she began, "I haven't seen much of you two lately.  Did you get your uniform, Colin?  Did I see you washing cars at the corner again?  What for this time?"

                Colin wondered how to answer.  He couldn't tell her all about Hogwarts, because she was non-magical.  He decided to be as truthful as he could, and gave Dennis a look that indicated he would be doing all the talking. 

                "A wonderful thing has happened, Mrs. Godfrey!" he smiled.  "I've been accepted on scholarship at a really good school, so I won't be going to Worcester at all anyway!  Only, I've got to scrape together the money for my train ticket to London."

                "Oh how wonderful!  Your father must be so proud!" she beamed.  Well, I imagine your list of school things is much longer now than it was before.  And you'll have to look extra smart at a school like that.  What's it called?"

                "Hogwarts School," said Colin, who imagined it didn't matter if he used the name of a place nobody had heard of.

                "Hogwarts, did you say?  I've never heard of that one.  Where is it?"

                "Er- well, I don't know- I mean, I don't remember," stammered Colin.  Mrs. Godfrey looked at him curiously.

                "Ah," she said, after a pause.  "Anywhere but here, is it?"

                Colin squirmed.  He decided blind enthusiasm was the best answer.

                "Well, it's just such a great opportunity," he said, "I think it will open a lot of doors later in life."

He kicked himself inwardly for sounding like one of his teachers.  Truthfully, he wanted to go because it was cool, and had never given a thought to what he wanted to do later in life.  But, she was right, that he didn't want to stay here, whatever the case.

                Mrs. Godfrey seemed to accept his answer and praised him for being "so grown up about it" and seemed almost as delighted about this news as Colin felt.  She offered to help him with shopping if he'd like and without waiting for an answer started limping away.  She seemed to be limping somewhat worse than usual, he thought.  

He turned to Dennis.  "Do you think she believed all that?" he asked.

Dennis grinned.  "Doesn't really matter, does it?  But yeah, I think she soaked up every bit."

CHAPTER SEVEN- MUGGLES IN LONDON

Two days later, Colin had the money he needed and then some, and he bought an advance one-way ticket for the railway for August 30 and carefully stowed it in his Hogwarts envelope with his vault key and Hogwarts Express ticket.  After all, he didn't want to leave cash in the envelope or dad might find it and take it for the rent.  He planned to buy his things at Diagon Alley on August 31.  He wasn't sure where he'd be spending the night in London, but he imagined that the extra money he'd earned would do for one night, and he'd use some scholarship money for the second night.  Doing this by himself, he had to admit, was somewhat frightening- but then, how else could he possibly do this?

Dad seemed to have accepted that he'd found a way to get there without costing him any money, and didn't bother asking questions after that.

Colin had never gotten around to trying to talk to Dennis.  Dennis was one moment just as excited as he was, and the next minute sort of distant.   It reminded Colin of the time Dennis knew what his Christmas present would be and was trying not to let the cat out of the bag.

                He found out why about a week before he was scheduled to leave, when Dennis got a package from mum.  The package contained a poster of a very frightening looking rock star in a black cape, a cheque for a hundred and fifty pounds, and a letter.

Dear Dennis,

How lovely that Colin is going to be a wizard!  I don't see any reason why you can't also dress up as a wizard for Halloween too.  I have friends here in America who are also interested in wicca (which is what they call witchcraft sometimes) and one who has a pentagram.  Enclosed is a poster of Count Death, the mega-star who I'm sure you've heard of that some people say has supernatural powers.  I know you boys love to have posters up in your room, so I thought you might like it.

I am so proud of Colin for getting a scholarship to one of those elite schools.   I'm sure you're right that Colin will manage to find a way to the train in London even without your father's help, but I think it's wonderful that you want to go with him to London and see him off.  So here's a check that ought to be enough to get both of you to London and back again.

While you're there you can probably stay with a friend of mine- his name is John Ellsworth, but everyone knows him as Bubba.  He lives in Finsbury and if you're lucky he may even take you to whatever club he's playing in while you're visiting.  Have a great time in London, and send me a photo.

Lots of Love,

Mum

P.S. Happy Birthday Colin, a bit belated!

                "Please don't be angry with me, Colin," pleaded Dennis, as Colin finished reading the letter.  "I tried to tell her what had happened- she's immediate family, after all, and she didn't really understand what I was saying anyway so it doesn't really matter.  I just kept thinking about Diagon Alley and wanting to go with you, and I knew we didn't have enough money for that, and neither did granddad, so I asked mum.  I know I probably can't get on the platform.  Please just let me come with you."

                Colin was torn between different emotions.  He felt anger at his mum- for forgetting his birthday until Dennis wrote.  He was relieved that she didn't really understand what Dennis really meant- he'd have to send her a photo of himself in his school robes and hat after Halloween and pretend that was his costume.   He was ashamed that Dennis had asked mum for money.  On the other hand, it was the first really useful thing she'd ever given them, and he had to admit that they needed the money and that he would really like to have Dennis' company for as much of this adventure as possible.  He looked at Dennis and grinned.  "Of course you can come, mate!  She wrote the cheque out to you, after all, so it's your money to spend!  This is going to be so cool, we get to see London!  And Diagon Alley!  And, oh, Dennis I'm going to miss you, mate, but I'm sure you'll be admitted once you're old enough!  I just know it!"

                Any ordinary parent might have been concerned to put two boys on a train to London with no supervision and no clear plan on where to stay. They weren't sure they wanted to try staying with Bubba and in any case thought it best if they didn't mention mum's letter or cheque at all.  Dad evidently figured the kids train tickets must have been nearly free anyway so he never wondered how they managed to buy them.  He was proud of Colin, especially about the scholarship, and was seemingly relieved that it was one less kid to keep track of for the next few months.   Granddad and grandma, however, nearly had a fit when they heard about Colin's plan, but by then it was too late to change anything and they couldn't afford to join the boys on the train.  So they contented themselves with giving the boys some very clear maps on how to get from the London train station to a very safe, inexpensive hotel they knew of near Paddington Station, and then back across town to King's Cross.  They also bought each boy a pouch to wear under their shirt to keep most of their money hidden inside of, and instructed them to call when they got there and every four hours until they got onto their trains to leave London.  Colin had to admit; it felt nice to have someone worried about them.  But he wasn't at all worried.

                The first part of the plan went flawlessly.   The got to the inn, where the innkeeper had apparently been asked to keep an eye out for the boys and possibly promised a good tip for entertaining them.  So they spent the afternoon on a cheap walking tour of London, getting a good look at the Palace, the Tower of London, and the like, with plenty of calls to Grandma.  

                Then came the next day, which they planned for their trip to Diagon Alley.  Of course, they hadn't mentioned exactly where they were going to grandma, who probably would not have approved at her grandsons entering a tavern like the Leaky Cauldron.  So the innkeeper at the Paddington hotel, who by this time was really growing to like these boys, was surprised when they didn't even want his company as they went shopping for Colin's school things.  They knew they would hear an earful from grandma later on, but they headed out and stared at the underground map and the map Hogwarts had provided and eventually got on a train.  It turned out to be the wrong one, and after several transfers made their way to the right station in London.  They walked down the street looking for the right address, and eventually saw a very small sign over a very old pub that seemed poorly maintained.  They wandered in and stared around.

                It wasn't that they'd never been in a pub before.  It was that the people in the pub were- well, not quite the sort of people you'd see everyday.  Most of them were wearing robes and cloaks and several had tall, pointed hats.  People were huddled over their drinks in the dark corners, too engrossed in their conversations to look up.  Except for the bartender, an old, bald, and exceptionally wrinkled man.

                "Yes, if you please sir, I'm looking for Tom the innkeeper," said Colin, sounding braver than he felt,

                "Well, you've found him then," said Tom.  "New students at Hogwarts, I expect?"

                "Just Colin is," said Dennis. "We're looking for Diagon Alley."

                "Yes, of course," said Tom, with a toothless grin.  "Right this way.  Now, you don't have a wand yet, do you?"

                "No, sir," said Colin.

                "Then pay attention, right, you'll need to be able to do this on your own next time you come back."  He had led them out the back door, where they were facing a solid brick wall with trashcans in front of it. Colin wondered if Tom had lost his marbles, as this seemed an unlikely place to find school supplies. "Is there – er- anyone else with you boys today?  A parent maybe?"

                "No, sir," Colin replied quickly.  

                "All right then, here we go.  Watch carefully."  Tom pulled out a wooden wand and counted over to a particular brick, then he tapped it three times. The brick quivered, then pushed itself almost out of the wall, which started a similar response from all the other bricks.  Colin stared in astonishment.  When they were finished, there was a big archway in front of them, leading into what could only be described as a marketplace bazaar.

                "Wow, cool!"  said Dennis and Colin together.

                "Right, now, listen up.  The first place you want to go is Gringott's Bank; it's the big white one down the street aways, to get your wizard gold.  The best place for wands is Ollivander's, and for robes head for Madam Malkin's.  Textbooks at Flourish and Botts.  I'm sure you'll find everything else just fine, and if you're stuck, go visit Florean Fortescue- he makes terrific ice cream sundaes and he'll point you in the right direction, " said Tom.

                "Thank you, sir!  Oh wow!" said Colin as they wandered forward into Diagon Alley.


	2. Chapters 7 to 9: Diagon Alley and the Ho...

Colin Creevey and the Search for a Hero- Continued… 

CHAPTER EIGHT- DIAGON ALLEY

Colin and Dennis stepped into Diagon Alley with identical dropped jaws, murmuring words of amazement.  Colin wasn't entirely sure what he had expected- perhaps a big, generic department store with a few cauldrons and pointed hats in one corner- but it certainly wasn't like this.  It was like looking at an illustration from a children's book, like a piece of history but it was real.  Diagon Alley was an outdoor mall bustling with people – only the people wore pointed hats and brightly colored robes and cloaks, the road was cobblestone, and the stores looked old and crooked, as though they'd been there for centuries, and were full of unusual and fascinating things.  He saw an entire store full of cauldrons first, more kinds than he could have imagined existed.  There was an apothecary next door, which had dozens of glass jars with strange labels like "streeler venom" and "salamander blood".  The next store sold owls of all sizes and colors.  The store after that had such a crowd of people in front of it that as he walked by Colin couldn't tell what it sold at all.  Dimly through his amazement he tried to remember where he was supposed to go first- _the bank, wasn't it?  What was it Tom had said, straight down….?  Then he saw, down near the first corner ahead, a huge white building with marble steps and a doorman outside, with gold lettering on the door that read "Gringott's Wizard Bank"._

                "There, Dennis, that one's the bank," he pulled himself together enough to say.  Dennis, his mouth still open in amazement, nodded mutely.  Once they approached the bank, they could see the doorman more clearly and Colin stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed Dennis' arm to stop him.

                "Er- Colin?"  Began Dennis, sounding confused.

                "That doorman- he's- er- he's not a man," stammered Colin, in a mixture of fear and excitement.

                "Blimey Colin, what is that thing?"  Dennis' eyes, which were already quite large, somehow seemed to widen even more.

                The creature outside of Gringotts was no taller than Colin.  He had a sharp nose and flappish ears with tufts of hair in each, and long knobby fingers.  However, he was clearly the doorman, and they watched the gold buttons on his scarlet uniform gleam as he opened the door and bowed to an entering wizard.

                "It's not nice to stare, you know," came a voice from behind them, making them both jump.  They turned around to find a boy about Colin's age, a little taller than he was, with wavy sand colored hair and freckles.  "Your first time here?  My name is Brian, and the doorman you were staring at is a goblin."

                "A goblin," repeated Colin, faintly.  Then, remembering his manners, he added, "Er- thank you.  My name is Colin, and this is my brother Dennis.  You're right, this is our first time here, and I'm just getting my school supplies."

                "Hogwarts?" asked Brian brightly.  "I'm starting there this year too.  Mum and Dad are in Gringotts, but I wanted to have a look at the new Nimbus while they go to the vault.  Wanna come?"

                Colin and Dennis followed Brian, not entirely sure what they were going to see.  "The what?" asked Colin.

                "The Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-One!  The fastest racing broom ever!" said Brian as he stopped at the store window where such a crowd had gathered.  Colin found it was much easier than he thought to duck under people's arms (being so small) and work his way to the front.  There were several broomsticks on display, but the one everyone was admiring had a magnificently polished handle, and fine gold lettering on the handle read "Nimbus Two-Thousand-and One". 

                "Wow!" breathed Colin, admiringly, his head swarming with half-formed thoughts.  "So… witches really do ride broomsticks…"

                Brian rolled his eyes with exasperation.  "And wizards too," he said.  They allowed themselves to be elbowed back out of the crowd and Brian continued, "That's how we play Quidditch, the best sport ever, by flying on broomsticks!  See, three Chasers from each team try to throw a ball called the Quaffle through a hoop, the Keeper tries to stop them, and the two Beaters have clubs to try to keep the Bludgers out of the way- Bludgers are balls that try to knock everyone off their broomsticks- and the Seeker tries to catch the fastest, smallest ball, the Golden Snitch, to end the game."

                For all the sense this made to Colin, he could have been speaking another language.  As his already overloaded brain struggled to absorb this, he nodded as though he understood and smiled blankly.  With a shock, Colin was pulled back into reality as he noticed his watch alarm was beeping- the reminder that it was time to call Grandma again.

                "Thanks for showing us the broom, Brian," he said.  "Say, do you know where we can find a pay telephone around here?"

                "A what?" asked Brian blankly.

                "You know, a telephone, so we can call our Grandma and let her know we're all right…" Colin trailed off at the look of incomprehension on Brian's face.  "Wizards don't use telephones?"  asked Colin.  Brian shook his head, confused.  "So, how do you talk to someone who's far away?" asked Colin.

                "Well, people who are too young to apparate can use Floo powder to travel, or can just talk using the magical fires," Brian began, and stopped.  There was an awkward pause, in which they both seemed to realize that the communication gap between them was just too wide to continue the conversation.  Then Brian said suddenly, "Well, I've got to meet Mum and Dad back at Gringotts.  See you on the school train!" and he took off in the direction of the bank.

                Colin paused for a moment, looking over at Dennis and suddenly realizing Dennis had hardly said a word since they entered Diagon Alley, but was still staring around with a mixture of amazement and longing on his face.  "All right there, Dennis?"  He asked.

                "Yeah, all right, Colin, " answered Dennis, still dazed.

                Colin braced himself.  No matter how lost he felt during that conversation, just being here and looking around he had another feeling- _I belong here.  They were words he'd used before, more in resignation than anything else, after mum and dad's divorce, after leaving granddad's house and moving into that horrible flat, he would face reality squarely that he was exactly where he belonged.  But his time the words were just as true, the changes just as frightening- and much, much more exciting.  __I belong here.  This is my new life. He focused on that excitement and drew his energy and his strength from it all.  __I am a wizard.  I am about to meet a goblin.  I will fly on a broomstick.  I belong here.  He smiled, and squared up his shoulders slightly, and then turned to Dennis._

                "Look," said Colin, "we've got to hurry.  We can't get to a phone without leaving Diagon Alley, and I don't want to leave until I've got a wand and we can get back in here on our own.  So we've got to hurry up and clear out that vault and buy a wand, and hope grandma's not too cross.  Right?  Let's go!"  And they marched to Gringotts and up the stairs, past the door-goblin without stopping, and straight to the counter.  He threw down his key at the desk and said clearly to the goblin sitting behind it, "My name is Colin Creevey, and I'd like to withdraw money from my scholarship vault."  Dennis was looking up at him in awe.  His courage wavered just a little bit as the goblin looked him over silently and inspected the key, and then turned to a long list of names beside him.  "Mr. Creevey.  The new student on the Malfoy trust," the goblin said slowly.  "That seems to be in order.  Griphook will take you to your vault, number 312, which contains the money for your books and supplies for this year.  Your tuition is being paid directly to Hogwarts."

                Griphook took them out of the marble hall and through a narrow stone archway into what looked like a railcar in a mine- and what followed was a fantastic roller coaster ride through a maze of tunnels that Dennis and Colin enjoyed immensely, whooping and screaming at every turn.  When they pulled to a stop, Dennis looked up at Colin with a wide, sickly smile.  "Colin, I threw up!" he said weakly.  "It was brilliant!"  Colin felt the excitement surging through him from the ride and could barely contain himself when Griphook opened the vault to reveal a small pile of huge gold and silver coins unlike anything he'd ever seen.  He sat in the vault, letting the coins slip between his fingers in glee, realizing this was probably as much money as dad made in a year.  He crammed his jean pockets full of coins until they bulged uncomfortably, took off his shirt and filled his travel money purse full of coins, and still had some left over.  He took off one shoe and filled it with coins, leaving the vault completely empty.  After another thrilling roller coaster ride they were back in the marble lobby and soon enough out in Diagon Alley again, where Colin was getting strange stares for walking around with only one shoe on, carrying the other coin-filled shoe in his hand.  But he didn't care, he was wishing he didn't have a shopping list- the fantastic things he could have bought here!

                "OK, the wand is next," he said, tearing his eyes away from a revolving model of the solar system.  Neither Dennis nor Colin could remember where Tom had told them to go for wands, so Colin bravely stopped a middle-aged witch who was passing by.  "Excuse me, but can you please recommend the best shop for wands?"

                "Well, that's be Ollivander's, of course!  Right down at the end there," she said, a bit surprised but smiling kindly.

                Colin thanked her and they sprinted down Diagon Alley toward the tiny, dusty old shop at the end.  As they entered a wizard with white hair and bright, light colored eyes looked up at them and smiled.  His eyes seemed about as full of energy as Colin felt.

                "Good day," said Mr. Ollivander.  "So you are looking for your first wand, Mr…?"

                "Creevey!" panted Colin, still out of breath from running down the alley.  "Colin Creevey.  And this is my brother Dennis."

                Mr. Ollivander turned to Dennis kindly.  "Young master Creevey, I look forward to serving you here soon enough," he said.  Dennis was practically bouncing out of his shoes at the suggestion that he was part of the wizarding world too.  "Now let me see… which is your wand arm?"

                Twenty minutes later, Colin's shoe was back on his foot and he had a long, slender cardboard box which held several coins, and a beautiful beechwood wand with a unicorn hair center.  "Flexible," Mr. Ollivander had said.  Colin had tried out several others, which seemed like mere sticks of wood, before this wand chose him, sending a few gold sparks tumbling from the end.  They were rushing back down Diagon Alley and back out of the leaky cauldron as fast as their short legs could carry them.  Finally they found a telephone and called up grandma.

                They were astonished when Dad answered the phone. 

                "Dad!" they said, both shouting into the mouthpiece at the same time.  "We saw the most amazing things- there was a goblin at the bank, and a racing broomstick, and Mr. Ollivander said he'd be seeing…"

                Dad's voice boomed back at them from the phone.  "Do you lads know what a right state your grandmother was in when you didn't call? Forty-five minutes late! " Colin and Dennis fell silent as Dad continued.  "I was halfway through filling bottles when she called me; she said the innkeeper had no idea where you'd gone.  It was all I could do to keep her from calling missing persons!"

                Colin began in a small voice, "Sorry dad, it's just… wizards don't use telephones and…"

                "And they don't use common sense either, I suppose!" interrupted Dad angrily.  "Now, Colin, we're all very pleased that you've won a scholarship- but all this about what you've seen today is a bit much for me to hear, all right?  Send me some pictures, make sure your brother gets back OK on his train, and _call your grandmother when she asks you to.  Right?"_

                "Right, dad.  Sorry, dad." said Colin.  He realized Dad wasn't really mad at them for not calling, he was mad at grandma for fretting so much that he had to leave work.  Dad put grandma on the phone and Colin told her very politely that he'd picked up his scholarship money and started buying his school things, and that he'd had some trouble finding a telephone.  "But I won't be late again, I promise," he said.

                When he hung up the phone he noticed Dennis was staring across the street.  "Hey Colin… Dad asked you to send pictures, mum wants a Halloween picture… do you think wizards have cameras?"  

Colin shrugged.  "I dunno," he said.

Dennis grinned.  "There's a camera store right there.  Think we have enough of mum's money left to snap a picture of those goblins?"  Dennis' mood seemed nothing short of buoyant ever since Mr. Ollivander's comment.  Colin said a little prayer that Mr. Ollivander had known what he was talking about.  They bought a cheap plastic camera and adjusted the strap so it dangled around Colin's neck, and marched into Diagon Alley.

Colin couldn't quite reach to tap the bricks behind the Leaky Cauldron to get back into Diagon Alley without a boost up from Dennis.  They grinned at one another like idiots as Diagon Alley opened before them.  Colin bought second-hand robes to try to save money.  They were quite nice, too, almost like new.   It looked as though someone had grown out of them too quickly to wear them out much, and if anything they were on the big side for Colin.  At Flourish and Botts Colin found an array of books with fascinating titles and moving pictures of the authors on the back of many.  At least half of his books were written by Gilderoy Lockhart, who seemed to have a different color robe and glittering bright teeth in every photo.  He got most of the rest of the books secondhand, and he splurged on a slim volume called _From Modern Muggle to Magic by Nancy Reagan, which was a nice introduction to the magical community from someone who seemed to have discovered her talent late in her life.  It had helpful looking chapters on owl post, broomsticks, Floo powder, magical careers, and three chapters on Divination.  They snapped photos of the goblin, and a friendly apothecary posed for a photo with Colin while Dennis took a picture.  "I don't want to take a picture of the broomstick in the store," he told Dennis.  "I'll take one of someone riding on it!"_

"Oh, wow!  Cool!  Get a picture of you flying, Colin, ask someone else to take it.  This is so amazing, I can't wait to get to Hogwarts!" spewed Dennis.  Then he backtracked embarrassed.  "I mean, I think I'll get there."

Colin bought his cauldron and piled all the rest of his things into it, and then topped it off with a telescope and his potion things. 

At this point the cauldron was difficult to move around from the weight, and Colin and Dennis together had to lean over and push it down Diagon Alley toward the Leaky Cauldron.  A passing witch was irritated enough by the noise of cauldron scraping on cobblestones to put a silencing spell on them, but it wore off once they were halfway down the street.  Colin was pleased that he'd found so many of his things secondhand, he had one bulging pocketful of wizard gold left.

"Let's have an ice cream with a bit of the leftover money," said Colin, as they reached Florean Fortescue's shop.  They decided on a root beer float, an American dessert that combined soda with ice cream- two treats in one!  They waited at the ice cream shop, taking in the scenery of Diagon Alley, until it was almost time to call their grandmother again.  Then they reluctantly heaved and grunted to push the cauldron out of the Leaky Cauldron, found a phone to give grandma a ring, and headed back to the inn.

The innkeeper looked as though he wanted to tell them off for having ditched him for the day and obviously worried their grandmother, but he didn't seem to have the heart to after watching them pushing the cauldron (which by now had bright scratches across the bottom) down the street from the tube stop in the dusky sunset.  He picked up the cauldron, eyeing it curiously, and carried it up to their room for them.  Then he picked up some fish and chips for dinner and brought it to the two obviously deliriously happy boys.  They had by now repacked the cauldron to stow the most obviously magical items on the bottom, leaving a few leather- covered tomes with hard to read names on the top.  But the cauldron they couldn't possibly hide.

"Er-," began the innkeeper awkwardly, "how do you reckon you're going to fit that into your school trunk?"

"Trunk?" asked Colin blankly.

"Well, you've got clothes and things, haven't you?  You need a big suitcase or a trunk!" insisted the innkeeper.

Truthfully, it hadn't even occurred to Colin that he might need a trunk.  It wasn't on the list.  And he was pretty sure he didn't have enough money left for one.  "Well, my clothes fit into my backpack!" he said happily, "and I think this… er… pot works fine for the rest!  I really like it," he answered enthusiastically.

The innkeeper looked exasperated.  "Well, you've at least got to have your name on it!" he said.

"How?" asked Colin, shrugging.  The innkeeper left, muttering something about crazy kids and incompetent parents.  Several minutes later, a middle-aged woman who Colin thought must be the innkeeper's wife appeared, holding stencils, a paintbrush, and a small can of gold paint.  

"I hear you need your name- er- painted on your- er- luggage?" she said brightly.

Colin and Dennis were so excited that they hardly slept.  They read_ From Modern Muggle to Magic from cover to cover, and Colin gave it to Dennis to take home with him.  "I'll send you loads of owls, and you can give some letters and pictures to Dad and mum and grandma.  And I'll be home for the Christmas holiday!" he said to Dennis._

CHAPTER NINE- HOGWARTS EXPRESS

The innkeeper shook his head as he waved goodbye, counting the gratuity they left him (on grandma's orders) and cringing at the sound of the cauldron on the sidewalk.  Loads of people on the underground were staring at them and the cauldron.  _Probably jealous, thought Colin._

Finally they arrived at King's Cross Station and got a trolley to help them carry the cauldron.  They called grandma one last time.  Then they took turns pushing one another around on the trolley until the conductor demanded that they stop.  They located the platform for Dennis' trip back to Liverpool.

"I guess this is it, mate," said Colin, as their giggles faded.

"Let me try to get onto the platform with you.  I'm positive I'll be able to!" said Dennis, a determined glint in his eye.

Colin hesitated.  The letter from Professor McGonagall had clearly stated that muggle family members wouldn't be allowed on the platform.  He felt almost positive that Dennis was as much a wizard as he was- but what if he was wrong?  Would Dennis be in any state to catch his own train home?  He looked at Dennis and heard the voice inside him again.  _I belong here.  We belong here._

"All right, then, c'mon!" he grinned, marching toward platforms 9 and 10.  He stopped to re-read the letter from Professor McGonagall.  "Platform 9 ¾.  Walk into the barrier," he said aloud.  "Probably just like Diagon Alley, I've just got to tap the right spot," he said, pulling out his wand and tapping at the metal panels all around the barrier.  Dennis was just about to give him a leg up so he could tap a bit higher when he felt a hand grab his arm and yank him back away from the spot.  

"What-are-you-DOING?" demanded an angry teenage girl with long curly hair.  Colin noticed that she had a trunk and seemed headed for the same place, with two parents standing behind her.  He then also noticed that everyone in the station seemed to be staring and him and Dennis.  "Put that away!  You're making a scene," she hissed, gesturing to his wand.  She took several deep breaths to calm herself, during which time people seemed to lose interest in him.  After all, hadn't it been only a few minutes earlier when the Creeveys had been a menace careening around on the trolley?  Colin realized that he must look like an extremely wild and silly little boy.  He suddenly felt very small and embarrassed.

"You must be a Hogwarts first year," began the girl again.  Colin nodded.  "My name is Penelope, and I'm a school prefect," she said, drawing herself up proudly and indicating a shiny badge on her shirt.  She looked at his cauldron, shaking her head.  "If you're trying to get onto the platform, Mr. Creevey, all you need to do it literally walk into this side of it while pushing your trolley.  I'll wait here while you go ahead."

So Colin and Dennis, chagrined, each grabbed a corner of the trolley and pushed together toward the barrier.  Just as they thought they would crash into it, everything was dark for a moment- and then there it was, the Hogwarts Express, a shiny red train belching steam and surrounded by students loading their things.  And there was Dennis beside him, looking about to burst with joy.  

"Two more years then, Dennis," he said.  "And the Creevey brothers can take Hogwarts by storm!"

They saw Penelope enter the platform a few moments later.    An older boy noticed the Creeveys struggling to pull Colin's cauldron onto the train and smiled broadly, as though trying to stop himself from laughing.  "Need some help with that?" he asked, lifting it easily into a compartment.  Colin beamed gratefully and leaned out the window, waving goodbye to Dennis until the train was moving and the platform was out of sight.

                Colin realized that he hadn't even begun to look around the compartment.  It was empty except for a pale girl with a limp black ponytail, who was already dressed in her school robes and was looking very nervous.  She smiled at him weakly when he noticed her. 

                "Hi," she began.  "My name is Mhairi."

                "I'm Colin," he answered.

                They looked at each other in silence for a moment, and then Colin could contain it no longer, he was still bursting with excitement.  "I'm starting my first year.  I never knew I was a wizard- my parents are muggles.  Buying my things in Diagon Alley was so amazing!  This is like a whole new world!"

                Mhairi gave what seemed to be a sigh of relief, and smiled. "Me too.  My dad is a professor at Edinburgh.  He didn't want to send me to some school he'd never heard of, he was most put out when I didn't want to go to Eton.  He wrote to Professor McGonagall to find out if Hogwarts was worthy of me," she rolled her eyes, "and got back an entire book called _Hogwarts: A History which he both had to read before he decided it would be all right.  But there are so many things I don't understand.  I wonder which house I'll be sorted into," she said nervously._

                "How do they decide?" asked Colin, curiously.

                Mhairi explained that four wizards had founded Hogwarts and that each of the four houses was named after them.  "Only the book didn't say how it decided where we belong.  It just said the ambitious kids are Slytherins, the brave ones are Gryffindors, the smart ones are Ravenclaws, and the righteous ones are Hufflepuffs."  She lowered her eyes and blushed.  "Dad's hoping I'll get into Ravenclaw and that when I finish I can found a wizarding university.  He was so shocked when Professor McGonagall wrote back that there aren't any yet."

                "Wow, that would be amazing!" said Colin.  "Nobody in my family has ever gone to university."

                Mhairi blushed much deeper and confessed, "I don't know if I can do everything Dad wants me to.  I'm just hoping my grades aren't too bad.  I don't even care what house I'm in, as long as it's not Slytherin."

                "Why not Slytherin?" asked Colin.

                "Because… he didn't want Hogwarts to teach muggle-born students.  If it were up to him, neither of us would be going to Hogwarts at all," she scowled.

                Just then a blond boy with slicked back hair and a pointed nose pushed their door open and walked in, followed by two extremely large kids with dark hair who reminded Colin of Ian.  The blond boy glanced around the compartment and spoke haughtily, "Have either of you seen Harry Potter yet on this train?  I hear he and Weasley missed it."  He smirked, "What a couple of nitwits."

                Colin shrugged.  "I dunno, " he said.  

                "What does he look like?" asked Mhairi.

                The blond boy grimaced.  "Ugh, nobody in here except a couple of filthy mudbloods," he said.  "Let's go."  He turned around to leave and spotted Colin's heavily scratched cauldron with its gold letters facing them.  "Creevey?" he read, alarmed.  He turned back to Colin with a look of utter disgust.  "You're not Colin Creevey, the scholarship kid?"

                Colin nodded, wondering how he knew about the scholarship and what was wrong.

                "They used _our money to send a MUDBLOOD to Hogwarts?" he shrieked.  "I can't believe this!  I'll have to write to my dad, of course.  This is an insult!  Slime like this wouldn't get into Slytherin in a million years!"  He turned back to Colin with revulsion.  "I don't think you'll be keeping that scholarship, Mr. Creevey," he spat as he stormed out of their compartment._

                Mhairi and Colin exchanged confused and annoyed looks.

                "What was that all about?" she asked.

                Before Colin could try to answer a small, red headed girl entered the compartment.  "Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?  My name is Ginny Weasley."

                Colin and Mhairi welcomed her to sit down.  "I'm just starting Hogwarts this year," she said nervously.  "I was hoping to sit with my brother Ron and his best friend Harry Potter, but I think they missed the train," she said, biting her lip in a worried way.

                "Someone was just in here looking for Harry Potter," said Mhairi helpfully.  "Blond kid with two big friends… sort of rude…"

                Ginny wrinkled her nose.  "Draco Malfoy," she frowned.  "Bet he's trying to get them in trouble."

                Colin's stomach flip-flopped at the name Malfoy.  He thought of his scholarship and hoped that Draco's father was somewhat friendlier than Draco had been.  "Why would he want to get them in trouble?' asked Colin.

                "Just jealous," shrugged Ginny.  "Harry Potter, you know…he's just amazing," she started turning somewhat red around the ears and smiling dreamily.

                Mhairi and Colin exchanged blank looks.  "Er- is he- head boy?" asked Mhairi.

                This statement seemed to snap Ginny out of her thoughts.  "No!  He's only a second year student!  But he's- well, Harry- Harry Potter is a hero!" she said, then gaining momentum she continued.  "He defeated the most feared Dark Wizard when he was only a year old!  And last year, one of our teachers was trying to bring He-who-must-not-be-named back to power, and Harry defeated them both!"

                Colin's eyes grew wide.  "Wow, really?  He must be just amazing.  How did he do it?"

                Ginny nodded and the words seemed to tumble faster and faster out of her mouth.  "He's really nice, and he's my brother's best friend and he spent the last month _at our house!  He's funny and he's smart and he's the youngest house Quidditch player in about a century, first year students never make the team.  But he's Seeker and he's just incredible on a broomstick.  He's got a really good one too.  He lives with his horrible uncle and aunt, because his parents were killed by You-know-who."  Ginny continued on in this manner for hours of the train ride as Mhairi and Colin listened with amazement to the story of Harry's life, including all his adventures with Ron and Hermione the previous year, his favorite breakfast foods, the color of his eyes, and the lightning shaped scar on his forehead.  Colin and Mhairi were fascinated by all this and couldn't wait to meet him.  Colin imagined a picture of Harry would look fantastic over his bed…_

                Finally they felt the train slowing down and Ginny jumped up.  "I want to find Fred and George and tell them Ron and Harry are missing.  Unless they did something amazing to catch it after we left King's Cross!  I wish they'd taken me with them.  Anyway, bye!" she said, leaving the compartment.

                "Wow," said Mhairi.  "He sounds even more amazing than Gilderoy Lockhart!"

                "That guy who wrote a bunch of our textbooks, you mean?" asked Colin.

                "Yeah!  Didn't you read them? He fought werewolves and vampires and hags… pretty amazing.  But You-know-Who sounds truly evil; I'm glad he's not around anymore.  I bet Harry is really brave and powerful," she said thoughtfully.

                "Yeah, Wow!" said Colin, imagining an evil cackling wizard defeated by a tiny baby.  

                Colin changed into his school robes hurriedly and Mhairi and Colin joined the other students spilling out of the train.  Colin was relieved to notice that none of them were dragging their trunks off the train, so he stuffed his backpack into the top of his cauldron and bounded out the doors.

                "Firs' years, this way!" he heard a deep voice call, and he followed Mhairi over to the most enormous man he'd ever seen, with a grizzled beard that almost entirely hid his face.  Colin was quite accustomed to being smaller than everyone he met, but next to this man he felt microscopic.

                "Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Grounds and Keys," the giant introduced himself.  Colin remembered that Ginny had called Hagrid one of Harry's good friends.  "Walk this way, an' we'll be goin' across the lake to the castle."  This night was cool with few clouds, and the stars sparkled brightly as Colin followed a path along to the edge of a lake.  There on the far side of the lake was the enormous castle, with turrets and towers pointing into the sky.  It looked like a fairy tale, a moment he wished he had his camera here to capture, but it was in his backpack in his cauldron.  He mentally vowed to never leave his camera behind again, at least not until Dennis was here too.

                Colin climbed into a boat with Ginny and Mhairi and they glided across the lake without rowing.

                "There's supposed to be a giant squid in the lake," said Ginny, peering over the side excitedly.  Colin was torn between staring agape at the castle which loomed larger and larger as they approached, or trying to see the squid through the murky water.  They sailed through a curtain of ivy in the cliff beneath the castle and landed at a large grassy area in front of a gigantic door.

                A stern looking witch with her hair pulled severely into a bun introduced herself as Professor McGonagall.  She herded them into a room off to one side from a very noisy hall where Colin imagined the rest of the school must be gathered.  Professor McGonagall was an intimidating and evidently irritated witch.  She explained the house points system, and then was interrupted by the arrival of a hook-nosed, dark haired wizard.

                "Students, this is your Potions Master, Professor Snape," she introduced.  "Yes?" she looked at him expectantly.

                "Professor McGonagall, it seems that only two students failed to arrive on the school train, and both are from Gryffindor- Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley," she said in a smooth silky voice that seemed somewhat hostile despite its calm tone.

                Professor McGonagall looked exceptionally irritated to hear this and her mouth tightened into a thin line.  "May I remind you, Severus, that there is still no evidence connecting them to the flying car?"

                Ginny Weasley jumped and her eyes grew large.  The teachers seemed not to notice.

                "I will begin my search of the grounds to look for the missing students and the car," continued Snape smoothly, "while you and Dumbledore attend to the Sorting and the banquet."

                "Very well.  Thank you, Severus," said Professor McGonagall in a strained voice.  She turned back to the first years and Colin noticed that she seemed to be overemphasizing how important it was that they strive to always be a credit to whichever house they joined.  Colin was so busy absorbing everything in a jittery state of excitement that he forgot to even think about which house he might be sorted into, let alone feel nervous about it, until they were marching in front of the whole school and standing before a very old and patched hat on a stool.  For a moment there was silence, and then the hat brim ripped open and the hat began to sing:

                                                _Some years ago was Hogwarts built,_

_                                                Grand turrets made of stone,_

_                                                To educate young sorcerers_

_                                                In a school of great renown._

_                                                The founders were all powerful_

_                                                but each different in their might_

_                                                They chose the students for each house_

_                                                And knew they would choose right._

_                                                But now I sort the students_

_                                                Though I'm no beauty to behold,_

_                                                For I can see what's in your head_

_                                                As you may have been told._

_                                                The bravest go to Gryffindor,_

_                                                Ravenclaw is for the studious,_

_                                                the true-hearted to Hufflepuff,_

_                                                and Slytherin for opportunists._

_                                                So try me on, don't worry,_

_                                                I've never yet been wrong,_

_                                                For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_                                                And this ends my yearly song._

                All the students clapped and the hat did something like a bow.  In no time at all Professor McGonagall read from a roll, "CREEVEY, COLIN!"

                He shivered with excitement as he sat on the stool and the hat was placed on his head.  It went well past his mousy hair and down past his chin, he noticed.  He heard a small voice in his ear.  "Hmmm.  Well now, a very true heart, yes, and plenty of ambition, oh my!  Perhaps Slytherin… but courage, such a lot of that, I think definitely the place for you is GRYFFINDOR!"

                The hat yelled the last word aloud for everyone to hear, and one of the tables erupted into cheers and gestured to him.  He removed the hat and took a seat.  From here it was much easier to see the room.  He looked up at the staff table, and immediately noticed Gilderoy Lockhart smiling broadly, resplendent in aquamarine robes.  He turned to the bushy haired girl next to him.  "It's Lockhart!  The one who wrote our books!"                

                "Yeah," she answered, staring up at the staff table and twisting her hair around one finger.  "He's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts!"  Colin stared in awe for several minutes.  He spotted a wizard with long white hair and a beard, who must be the headmaster Dumbledore, he thought.  And he noticed several empty seats at the staff table.  He forced his attention back to the sorting and applauded enthusiastically as Mhairi was sorted into Ravenclaw, just as her father had hoped.  Brian, who he had met in Diagon Alley, was sorted into Hufflepuff, and Ginny Weasley joined him at the Gryffindor table.  There were almost a dozen new students in total sorted into Gryffindor.

                Dumbledore stood up as the sorting finished, and everyone grew silent.  "Let the feast… begin!" he said, as a magnificent banquet suddenly appeared on every table.  Colin took a moment to admire the sparkling gold plates and the floating candles illuminating everything and the starry ceiling overhead, and decided it was the happiest day in his life.  _Wish Dennis was here, he thought._

                As he tucked into a baked potato he overheard Ginny talking to some older redheaded twin boys, who from the looks of things could be her brothers.  "… Snape said Ron and Harry didn't arrive on the train.  Snape is out looking for them, Fred…"

                Fred snorted. "Ickle Ronniekins can take care of himself.  I'm sure that if the stupid gits missed the train I'm sure Mum will find another way to get them here."

                Ginny appealed to the other twin, "But Snape seemed to know something about Dad's flying car.  I'm worried, George!"

                "Worried that you'll have to spend your first meal in a month without staring at Harry sitting there across from you?" teased George.  "Really, Ginny, you ought to give the poor bloke a break."

                "Yeah, he's probably hiding to get away from you," added Fred.

                Ginny flushed scarlet and stared at her lap, looking about ready to cry.  Not knowing what to say, Colin pretended he hadn't heard anything and looked up at the staff table to see Professor Snape saying something to Professor McGonagall that made her look even more irritated than before, and she stormed out of the hall.  After Snape spoke a few words in Dumbledore's ear he frowned and rose quickly to exit the hall with Snape.  Colin had a bad feeling that this had something to do with Harry and Ron, and couldn't help but feel about as worried as Ginny.

                The moment Professor McGonagall entered the banquet hall again, a red-eyed Ginny excused herself and rushed over to talk to her before she reached the staff table.  Ginny returned to the table and started eating again, looking somewhat relieved, though not much happier.

                "Well?  Aren't you going to tell us what's going on?" asked Fred, in a way that suggested perhaps he was more worried than he was letting on.

                Ginny scooped some trifle onto her plate and answered without meeting his gaze.  "Ron and Harry arrived OK but they're not allowed to come to the banquet because they're in trouble.  They were seen flying the car here and they crashed it into a Whomping Willow and hurt it.  But they're OK."

                At this the volume of conversation got much louder and the news spread to the other end of the long table very quickly.

                "A flying car?" asked the bushy haired girl next to them.  "I knew they missed the train, but they wouldn't do anything that stupid, would they?  They might get expelled!"

                Nobody else seemed to share her opinion, however.

                "Flying all the way to Hogwarts, George!  That's brilliant!  Well worth a detention, we should have done that," said Fred.

                "What's a Whomping Willow?" asked a first year girl with long wavy blond hair.

                "It's a tree that will hit you with its branches if you try to get close to it," said a much older girl who introduced herself as Angelina.  "_I think that tree got what it deserved, a car crashing into it finally gave it a punch back, now it knows how it feels!" she said vehemently, rubbing one arm as if vividly remembering a bad encounter with the tree._

                Finally the feast was ended and the food disappeared quite as suddenly as it had appeared, with sparkling gold cups and plates left all around.  Dumbledore stood up.  "I have some start of term announcements," he said.  "First, may I introduce the new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Gilderoy Lockhart."  There was enthusiastic applause and even a few wolf whistles as Professor Lockhart stood up and smiled broadly, taking several bows.  Colin clapped enthusiastically, and was about to stand on his chair to get a better look when the applause died down and Dumbledore continued.  "I would like to remind all students that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds, as is the village of Hogsmeade to students below third year.  Finally, our caretaker Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that leaving your houses to walk in the corridors at night is strictly forbidden without specific permission.  That is all, I trust you are all well-fed from our feast.  Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!"

They followed a prefect named Percy (another Weasley, though evidently the only other Gryffindor who wasn't impressed by the story of how Ron and Harry might have arrived) up several staircases to the Gryffindor tower.  There was a portrait of a large woman in a pink dress who asked for the password, and then swung open to reveal the common room.

                Everyone stayed awake in the common room waiting for Harry and Ron's entrance.  Even if they got expelled, the reasoning went, someone would have to come here to get their things, which had already been taken up to their dormitory.  Colin raced up to his dormitory to grab his camera from the cauldron and then joined the chattering crowd below.  The bushy haired girl who had been sitting next to Colin at dinner turned out to be Hermione Granger, who was possibly the smartest girl in the school and one of Harry's best friends.  After a few moments of waiting she announced that she was going looking for Ron and Harry and she left through the portrait hole, looking frustrated.  Colin was disappointed that he hadn't asked for her name sooner, he could have learned loads more about Harry by talking to her!

                Finally Ron and Harry arrived, and arms reached through the portrait hole to lift them inside, leaving Hermione scrambling in behind them.  

                "Brilliant!" yelled a dredlocked student.  "Inspired!  What an entrance!  Flying a car into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that one for years-"

                "Good for you," yelled an older girl.  Other students were patting Ron and Harry on the back.  It wasn't hard for Colin to guess who was Harry, he looked exactly as Ginny had described him, and Ron had the same bright red hair as his siblings.  Colin stood on top of a chair on his tiptoes and craned his neck to try to get a good look- and maybe a photo- of Harry.  He scanned the black bangs on Harry's forehead for a glimpse of the scar- but he only succeeded in falling off the chair.  As others pushed their way to the front Colin found himself getting pushed farther and farther back into a remote corner of the room.

                "Why couldn't we have come in the car, eh?" asked Fred and George, cuffing them on the shoulders.

                But unfortunately Harry and Ron immediately headed for the staircase for the boys' dormitory before Colin could even hope to get closer.  "Got to get upstairs- bit tired," said Ron, red-faced and grinning.

                "'Night!" called Harry to a scowling Hermione.

                Disappointed, Colin took a few photos of the crowded common room and went up to his dormitory.  He hadn't taken the time to appreciate it properly before, when he'd raced in to find his camera.  It was a round room filled with magnificent four poster beds with red velvet drapes.  The view out the ornate, narrow windows showed the lawn and the edge of the forbidden forest.  Colin met the other first-year Gryffindor boys- Winston had blond, spiky hair, Rich was from London, Douglas was a tall Irish boy, Phil had hair in cornrows, and Chuck was a loud Scottish boy.

                Winston grinned and pointed at the camera dangling from Colin's neck.  "Trying out wizard photos already, are you?"

                "What? " asked Colin, confused.  "I'm taking photos to send to my family."

                "You know, " said Winston, "if you develop them in the right potion, the pictures will move- you know, like the photos on the back of Lockhart's books."

                "Wow, really?" said Colin, breathlessly.  "I didn't know that!  Can- can you teach me how?"

                Winston smiled.  "I guess so.  Let me know when you finish your first roll."

                Colin smiled gratefully, put on his pajamas, drew the velvet curtain around his bed and lay down.  The wall above his bed looked disturbingly empty without a picture or poster there, even though there weren't any cracks or holes in the walls here. Colin fell asleep imagining a moving life-size photo of Harry on a broomstick- or maybe two of them, one for here and one for Dennis back at home…


	3. Chapters 10 to 11: The First Day and the...

**Colin Creevey and the Search for a Hero (continued)**

CHAPTER TEN-  THE FIRST DAY

                In the morning, Colin slung his camera around his neck, bolted down his breakfast and headed straight for the owlery to send a message to Dennis.  There seemed to be every color and size of owl imaginable.  Colin picked out a pretty gray one with somewhat speckled feathers and rolled up his rather long note to Dennis, tying it to the owl's leg.  He had written until his hand was cramping, all about Harry Potter and Gilderoy Lockhart, the Sorting Hat and the Great Hall, and the amazing castle.  Once the note was tied on firmly the owl soared straight out the owlery window and Colin raced to the window and snapped several photos of the owl soaring over the grounds and out of sight.

                Colin was hoping to find Harry eating breakfast in the Great Hall, but evidently Harry had already left.  However, Percy wasted no time in passing Colin his class schedule, and he saw that the morning was filled with History of Magic followed by Defense Against the Dark Arts.  He walked the corridors slowly on his way to class; taking pictures of the castle, the ghosts, and the suits of armor- all the amazing things he could see.  History turned out to be rather dull- almost like history back home, except that Professor Binns was a ghost and entered the classroom by floating through the blackboard.  He wondered how Professor Binns would manage to write on the blackboard, or even hand out and grade their solid exams, as his lecture notes seemed made of the same semi-transparent material that the ghosts were, and he seemed to pass right through anything solid.

                Colin was really looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts and the chance to see Gilderoy Lockhart up close.  It was rather heavy carrying all the Lockhart books to class, and Colin found himself taking rather more photos than usual as he walked there because his aching arms needed a break.  Finally he arrived in the classroom, somewhat late, and saw Professor Lockhart standing at the front of the class in flowing turquoise robes, reading down the roster.  He winked as Colin slid into his seat, and when he had finished roll call he smiled indulgently at them all.

                "Now, I know what you must be thinking," he began, wagging a finger.  "Your first year, your first class ever, many of you have never even waved a wand before, and here you are learning from Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award!  It must be very intimidating!"  Colin felt sure that Lockhart must be able to read minds in addition to all his other talents.  "But the truth is," continued Lockhart, lowering his voice and winking at them, "that nothing will prepare you better for dealing with the Dark Forces than learning from an accomplished, internationally acclaimed wizard like me.  Now, I don't expect this to come as easily to you as it has to me, you may feel like you're barely able to grasp the fundamentals.  But when you look back after a few months of training, I'm quite sure that you'll all find you're learning faster than you realize!"  Colin felt very comforted.

                "Now, I don't want to overwhelm you on your first day, but I don't want to bore you either!  So I'll start with telling you a little about me, then I'll give you a peek of what's ahead, and then we'll start the  lesson."  Lockhart spent three quarters of the period telling them all about his adventures and ambitions while Colin and the other students gazed on in awe.  

                A Gryffindor girl with wavy blond hair raised her hand to ask a question.  "Yes?" asked Lockhart, his teeth gleaming as he smiled broadly.

                "Professor, I was wondering if you would tell us why you decided to come teach at Hogwarts," she asked, blushing furiously.

                "I'm glad you asked me that, Miss?"

                "Miss Dahl, sir," she replied happily.

                "Yes, Miss Dahl, that's an excellent question!  I could be out there freeing the magical community from manticores and dragons, so why come to Hogwarts instead?  Well, I feel it's my duty to share my wisdom with young witches and wizards beginning their training!  Yes, I know, not many of you will be ambitious enough to seek out and rescue communities in need as I do, but you never know when you might find yourself in a tight spot- and with some help from me, you might be able to benefit all sorts of people as I have numerous times," he smiled again.

                When he had finished with his life story, he pulled out a large cage covered with a drape.  "Now this," he began, "is just an exciting glimpse of what lies in store for you.  This is the lesson for the second year class after lunch.  I wanted to give you just a peek!  I realize this may be quite frightening for you, but rest assured that nothing will harm you while I am here."

                Colin trembled with excitement as Lockhart dramatically whipped the drape off the cage and proclaimed "Yes!  Freshly caught Cornish pixies!"

                The cage was full of tiny electric blue creatures with shrill buzzing voices.  One of the girls screamed, and the pixies seemed to rocket wildly about the cage in response.  Colin grabbed his camera and started taking pictures.  Half the class moved forward to take a closer, fascinated look at the pixies, who were sticking out their tongues and making faces at the class, while the other half stood back with frightened stares.

                "Now, calm down, please, back in your seats," said Lockhart, restoring order.  "Perhaps later in the year you can learn to capture these yourselves!  But for today," he said, covering the cage with its drape once more, "let's read from my autobiography _Magical Me and learn how I subdued a particularly menacing colony of pixies that were causing quite a fuss over in Cornwall."_

                Colin again listened with rapt attention.  He was particularly looking forward to the re-enactment of the exciting bits that Lockhart promised for the next lesson.  At the end of class, several girls stayed in their seats whispering to one another and staring at the teacher.  Colin bounded past them all to speak to the Professor.

                "Excuse me- Professor Lockhart- could I –er- could I have a picture please?" he asked, holding up his camera hopefully.

                "Certainly, Mr…?"

                "Creevey, sir." said Colin brightly.  "Colin Creevey.  All the things you've done are so amazing!  I've never talked to a real hero before!"

                Lockhart's smile seemed to grow even wider.  "Well, thank you, Colin!  I happen to have an already autographed photo right here," he said, pulling one from a stack on his desk, "but if you'd like to try out your photography skills, Mr. Creevey, it's hard to say no to a real fan!"  He winked.

                Colin was delighted when Professor Lockhart allowed him to take several photos and even suggested a variety of poses.  Eventually Colin took individual shots of each of the girls in the classroom with Lockhart and they took one of Colin with Lockhart, and Colin promised to give them the copies when they were developed.

                "Thank you, sir!  This is fantastic!" he squeaked as he left, elated at his good luck.  He'd spent half of lunch taking photos and had already used up most of his first roll of film.  He raced to the Great Hall to grab some lunch and immediately went searching for the one person he wanted a picture of most of all.

                It was near the end of lunch when Colin finally tracked down Harry.  He was sitting outside in the courtyard talking to Ron; with Hermione reading a book nearby.  Colin set down his books, staring at Harry's hairline and clutching his camera as he moved closer.

                Suddenly, Harry looked up and saw him staring, and unlike Lockhart he seemed surprised by the attention.  Colin felt the blood rushing to his cheeks as he fumbled for what to say.  _Why didn't I think over what I wanted to say before I was standing right in front of him? _

                "All right, Harry?  I'm – I'm Colin Creevey," he stammered breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward.  "I'm in Gryffindor too.  D'you think- would it be all right if- can I have a picture?" he said, raising his camera hopefully.

                "A picture?" repeated Harry blankly.  It was clear that Harry had never considered having a stack of autographed photos on hand.

                "So I can prove I've met you," Colin continued eagerly, hoping he didn't sound too awkward, edging further forward.  "Everyone's told me.  About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead," he said, trying vainly once more to see through that mop of untidy hair that hung over Harry's face, "and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll _move."  Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, 'It's __amazing here, isn't it?  I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts.  My dad's a milkman; he couldn't believe it either.  So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him.  And it'd be really good if I had one of you," he looked imploringly at Harry.  On a sudden inspiration, he added, "maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you?  And then, could you sign it?"_

                But before Harry could answer, a loud and scathing voice came from behind Colin, echoing around the courtyard.

                "_Signed photos?  You're giving out __signed photos, Potter?" It was Draco Malfoy, the blond sneering boy from the train, the son of Colin's benefactor.  Malfoy was again flanked by his two thuggish cronies.  _

                "Everyone sign up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd.  "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

                "No I'm not.  Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry angrily.

                Colin felt a swoop of indignation.  It didn't take him more than half a second to realize that Malfoy wasn't trying to be the first to line up in excitement, he was trying to suggest that Harry was arrogant!  _How ridiculous!  thought Colin.  Nobody thought twice about Lockhart giving away signed photos, and Harry had to be at least ten times more important!  Colin didn't care how rich the Malfoys were, how big Draco's friends were; he didn't care about anything except setting Draco back in his place.  Harry was a bona-fide hero, and he had every right to give out signed photos.  Colin knew that based on Harry's reaction this might have been the first time someone asked for his autograph, but he also knew that it wouldn't be the last._

                "You're just jealous," Colin spat back at Malfoy.

                "_Jealous?" said Malfoy, who didn't need to shout anymore: half the courtyard was listening in.  "Of what?  I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks.  I don't think getting your head cut open makes you all that special, myself."_

                The two thugs behind Malfoy were sniggering stupidly.

                "Eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ron, angrily.  One of the thugs stopped laughing and started rubbing his knuckles in a menacing way.

                "Be careful, Weasley," sneered Malfoy.  "You don't want to start any trouble or your Mommy'll have to come and take you away from school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice "'If you put another toe out of line'-"

                Colin didn't have a clue what Malfoy was referring to, but a knot of Slytherin fifth-years nearby laughed loudly at this.

                "Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," smirked Malfoy.  "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house-"

                This was the last straw for Colin.  At least the Weasleys had a house, unlike Colin's family in their seedy flat.  Being poor was nothing Colin had ever been ashamed of- he was more proud of how much he'd managed to overcome than anything else- but he could see that Draco had hit a raw nerve in Ron, who was reddening in the ears and neck.  Ron whipped out his wand and Colin gasped.  _What do wizards do to one another when they fight?  he wondered, excitedly.  He was willing to bet it was worse than a bloody nose.  Colin was about ready to cheer Ron on when Hermione shut her book and whispered, "Look out!"_

                "What's all this, what's all this?" The now familiar face of Professor Lockhart was walking toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him.  "Who's giving out signed photos?"

                Harry started to speak but was cut short as Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked!  We meet again, Harry!"

                Colin grinned as the dazzling combined star power of Lockhart and Harry overwhelmed Malfoy, who seemed very small next to them as he disappeared back into the crowds.

                "Come on then, Mr. Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. "A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll _both sign it for you."_

                Colin stared in awe.  He realized that all the super-celebrities of the magical world must all know each other, must hobnob together at fancy parties, and for someone like him to witness a meeting between them was just too cool for words.  Colin fumbled for his camera, still star-struck, and took the picture just as the bell rang behind them, signaling the start of afternoon classes.

                "Off you go, move along there," Lockhart called to the crowd as he set off back to the castle with Harry.  Colin hastily checked his schedule and headed off for the common room to grab his things for Potions.

To his relief, Colin found that he was actually able to carry rather than push his cauldron, now that he had dumped most of its contents onto his bed.  He listened closely as Professor Snape's quiet but riveting voice explained that Potions was not a class for foolish wand waving.  Then Snape set them in pairs to make a simple potion to cure boils.  Colin was partnered with a Gryffindor girl that he recognized as the blond who had asked Lockhart why he went into teaching.  Felicity Dahl was about a foot taller than Colin, with pale, perfect skin and bright blue eyes that made her look like a porcelain figurine.  They used Colin's cauldron and quickly found themselves falling behind the rest of the class.  Colin, who liked the Potions dungeon the moment he entered it, was finishing off his roll of film with pictures of slowly simmering cauldrons and great glooping bubbles and glass jars full of interesting things.  Felicity was refusing to touch the horned slugs that they needed to stew and seemed too disgusted at their surroundings to even touch the desktop.  The flash of Colin's camera attracted Professor Snape to their cauldron immediately.

                "Potion brewing is not a spectator sport, Mr. Creevey," he said slowly.  "Ten points from Gryffindor.  You will put that camera away and not bring it here again unless you intend it to become an ingredient in your potion.  Is that clear?"

                "Yes, sir," said Colin, gulping in astonishment as much of the class, especially the Slytherins, tittered in the background.  Colin stashed his camera in his bookbag, red-faced at having lost house points on his first day.

                "I see that you two haven't yet stewed your slugs.  I estimate that at your current pace you will finish about two hours after your classmates, well after your next class begins," he said in a scathing tone.  "I recommend that you pay more attention to your potion and less attention to whether your cauldron stands out in the crowd, Mr. Creevey," he sneered, eyeing the golden name label on the cauldron and the scratches and dents near its bottom with disdain, "otherwise you can both try brewing this recipe again in detention."

                In a near panic, Colin took over preparing the potion alone.  He carefully stewed the horned slugs and crushed his snake fangs in a feverish hurry as Felicity wrung her hands helplessly and looked like she might throw up at any second.  _This isn't so bad, it's just like cooking supper at home, only the ingredients are lots more fun, he thought.  To his relief, his efforts paid off and he finished his potion at the same time as his classmates.  When Snape swept by checking each finished potion and noting the inadequacies of each, he stared silently at their cauldron for several moments in what seemed an apparent inability to find anything to criticize.  It looked exactly the color and consistency as it should be._

                "Well, Mr. Creevey and Miss Dahl, one of you seems to have a hidden talent in brewing potions quickly," he said, glancing from one to the other with a searching look.  "Perhaps you merely need more challenging work to motivate you in the future?   You two will each compose a three page essay on the usefulness of horned slugs in potion making, due to me by Friday, in addition to the regular homework," he said, grinning in a menacing way.

                Colin didn't really want to leave the classroom when the bell rang.  He didn't mind the extra homework at all- he was finding potions fascinating anyway- but he was frustrated at losing points and he felt stung that Professor Snape would single him out as unmotivated.  Nothing could be further from the truth!  He decided to work especially hard in potions to try to impress Professor Snape.  If this turned out to be his favorite subject he wanted to be on the best possible terms with the teacher.

                "Don't take it too hard," he heard Ginny beside him in the hallway.  "Everyone hates Snape.  He doesn't like Gryffindor.  He'll find every excuse he can to take points away.  He's put my brothers in detention loads of times."

                Colin knitted his brows.  "Why, though?  None of the other teachers are so mean…"

                Ginny shrugged.  "He seems to like Slytherins an awful lot, that's all I'm saying."

                That night in the Gryffindor common room, Colin raced to finish his dinner and his homework, and then looked around for Winston to see about developing his first roll of film.  Winston was deep in a Quidditch conversation with Phil, and seemed rather surprised when Colin interrupted him to ask about the potion to develop moving photos.  He sighed deeply, "The roll that cost us all ten points, with photos of every moment of our day, you mean?" he said with a bit of a hard edge to his voice.  "Small wonder you're already finished, eh?"  Phil smirked and scowled likewise.  "Anyway, I don't have any of that potion right now, my mum always made it for us.  But I think there's a student photolab somewhere on campus, you can work it out yourself, just ask an older student to show you where it is," he said dismissively, returning to his Quidditch discussion.

                Colin felt a bit disappointed, but not deterred.  He looked around the room for an older student who seemed friendly.  Harry was nowhere to be found, as usual.  He saw Ginny in the corner writing in her diary.  Felicity and some second year girls were soaking their fingernails in some frothy navy blue liquid and giggling.  Most of the older students were in pairs or groups, and Colin didn't really know any of them.  Finally, he spotted someone who was alone.

                "Percy," he asked, "can you teach me how to develop photos?"

                Being a prefect Percy was quite possibly the best person Colin could have asked, as it turned out.  Percy took Colin to a small dungeon near the Potions classroom, which was an entire photo laboratory.  Percy taught him a simple charm to turn the candles into red light, and showed him where the photo developing potion was kept in a cupboard.  "If you use a lot of it, though, you'll need to learn how to brew it," he said, gesturing to a corner of the room with a cauldron and a tattered recipe posted on the wall and bottles of supplies all around it.  "But the recipe is fairly simple, I think a first year could manage it after a few practice batches."  Percy helped Colin get started on his film, patiently developing the photo of the owl soaring across the grounds.  "Nice shot," said Percy encouragingly.  "Now that you've got the idea, I'll leave you here to finish the rest.  Any student can work in here for as long as they want.  If you leave a mess Snape is sure to find out who it was, so make sure you tidy up when you're done.  It'll go faster once you get the knack," Percy finished, smiling.

                Getting the knack was quite a bit more difficult than Colin had hoped, and by the time he needed to return to Gryffindor tower he had almost completely depleted the supply of developing potion, but had only five photos to show for his efforts.  He'd also forgotten to ask Percy how to turn the candles back to a normal light, and had to clean up in the dimness and leave them glowing red.  But he hadn't yet developed the photo of Harry and Professor Lockhart, he'd waited until he felt more confident before getting to that one and was disappointed that he'd run out of time.

CHAPTER ELEVEN- THE FINDING SPELL

                After his dinner the next day Colin returned to the photolab dungeon and began to brew more potion.  Making it was lots of fun, and Colin found himself humming, whistling, and even singing as he worked.  He had only barely enough time to finish the potion and pour it into bottles before he had to race back to the dormitory.  It looked again like it was exactly the color and thickness he expected, and he hoped it wouldn't do any damage to the film if it wasn't quite right.

                By the third night, Colin was trying out his photo potion.  He was working quicker now that he had a bit of experience, and he was delighted to find that his fresh potion worked far superior to the one that had been in the photolab when he first arrived.  He had yet to see any evidence that any other student was using the photolab at all, but that was fine with him.  

                Colin sent a copy of every picture on his first roll of film to Dennis by owl, along with a long description of where he took each photo, a bit of muggle money, and a plea to send him back a whole bunch of new film.

He was disappointed that he wasn't allowed to bring his camera into most of his classes- Professor McGonagall had been most upset when he took a picture of her demonstration transfiguration, but Colin felt it was worth it to capture something so awesome.  About half of his fellow first year Gryffindors ignored him whenever possible- they didn't seem to have forgiven him for losing them points in Potions, something that didn't actually make too much sense to Colin since several of them had cost Gryffindor points in the days since.   The other half of the class seemed friendly enough, though, and he enjoyed sitting between Ginny and Mhairi in Charms class and talking with Chuck and Rich as they worked on the same Soap plant in Herbology.

"Say, Colin, where is it that you spend the evenings?  You haven't been in the common room or the library or the dormitory all week!" said Chuck one day.

Colin told him all about the photo lab and pulled out his brand new photo of Harry and Professor Lockhart.  "I'm going to ask Lockhart to sign it after class tomorrow, and I'll ask Harry to sign it whenever I can talk to him," said Colin. 

"Wow, cool!" said Rich.  "But why does Lockhart's image smile and wink and Harry's keep trying to run off the photo?"  It was true, Lockhart's image seemed to be grabbing Harry's arm to drag him back into the photo frame, and Harry's image was putting up a good fight to stay out, you could only see his arm.

"I reckon either he doesn't like Lockhart," said Chuck slowly,  "or he really doesn't like having his picture taken.  The actions of the image reflect how they were feeling at the moment.  Sometimes you can solve mysteries that way, you know.  Like if you get a picture of the whole staff in the suite of your house, and when you develop the photo you see the maid staring at or reaching for the silverware- then you can guess where the missing spoons have probably gone," he explained.  Rich and Colin laughed.

"I can't imagine anyone not liking Lockhart, he's brilliant," gushed Rich.  "I guess Harry is just camera-shy."

Colin thought about this for a few moments.  'What if I get a photo when he's not looking?  Say, in the middle of a Quidditch match?"

Chuck seemed to catch on right away.  "Well, if he's thinking about something else- say trying to catch the Snitch- I think his photographic self would only be trying hard to reach the Snitch.  And smiling a lot, if he's having fun!" he answered.

Colin smiled.  He wondered when Quidditch practice would begin.

Lockhart was more than willing to sign Colin's photo immediately- he even asked for a copy!  But Harry was harder to pin down.  Every time Colin saw Harry he was with Ron and Hermione, and he didn't even seem to notice anyone else, not even Ginny, who Colin saw trying to talk to him several times.  In Charms class, Colin asked Ginny for her brother's class schedule, knowing Harry's would be the same, and Colin was hoped he could stop Harry in the hallways on the way to a class.  He succeeded in nonchalantly wandering down just the right hallway at the right moment several times a day and calling out, "All right, Harry?" It always gave him a bit of a thrill when Harry would call back "Hello, Colin."  But Harry usually seemed preoccupied and sometimes even exasperated by whatever else had been going on in his day, so Colin wasn't able to pull him aside and ask him to sign the photo.

Friday night Colin was searching the common room yet again for Harry and not finding him there when he ran into a round-faced second year boy who also seemed to be searching the common room.

"Hullo," the boy said, "My name is Neville Longbottom."

"Colin Creevey," said Colin, politely.

"Have you lost something?" Neville asked.

"Er- um- yeah," said Colin.  "Sort of."

"Me too.  I've lost my toad, Trevor.  Third time this week," commiserated Neville.  "I usually use a Finding Charm on him, but I'm so forgetful…" Neville was looking sheepish and red-faced.   He whispered, "…that I forgot to use it."

"I'll help you look," said Colin, and they lifted cushions and bags in the common room searching. "What's a Finding Charm, anyway?"

"Oh!  Well, it's for if you've got something really important that you don't want to lose," said Neville, "you put a spell on it so you can find it again."

"Wow!" said Colin, amazed at the very idea. "Really?  Can you teach me?"

Neville looked taken aback.  "I've… I've never taught anyone anything…." he said faintly, looking nervous.  But as Colin looked at him pleadingly he seemed flattered and he smiled nervously.   "Ok, we'll have a go."  He removed one of his shoes.  "Suppose I don't want to lose my shoe," he said.  "Marco!" he said, pointing his wand at the shoe.  "Ok, now it's all set up right.  When I lose my shoe- and I probably will- I'll be able to find it," he explained.  He paused, then said, "I'll have to show you properly, I think,"  tossing his shoe a few feet away and nearly hitting someone's knee.  "Er- sorry, Parvati," he said, getting more and more red-faced every moment as his lesson continued.  She scowled back at him.  Neville seemed to have lost his train of thought, he looked like he didn't know how to continue.

"Go on," prodded Colin encouragingly.  "How do you find it?"

"Right," said Neville, shakily.  "Then you hold your wand tight and use the spell and go to where your wand pulls you.  Only you've got to use the same wand as before," he said.  Then he turned away from the shoe and said "Polo!" and his wand whipped around until it was pointing the toward the shoe, and downward.  Neville turned around and took a step closer to the shoe.  "Polo!" he said again, and Colin watched as his whole arm jerked forward toward the shoe under the wand's actions.   "It gets stronger the closer you get.  Almost like a magnet if you get too close."  Neville pointed right at his shoe and said "Finite Incantatem!", picked up his shoe and said, "That last one is to turn the spell off when you're done."  Neville sat down to put his shoe back on, but stood up again almost immediately at a croaking noise.  He lifted up the cushion.  "Trevor!" 

Neville seemed embarrassed and very pleased with himself for having taught Colin something, and Neville watched while Colin practiced on his own shoe.  It took him at least an hour to get things working, and Colin dropped his wand several times when it his grip on it wasn't tight enough.  Once the wand went shooting like a javelin out of his hands and toward his shoe.  It almost hit someone in the leg, except that they moved at the last second coincidentally.  Neville and Colin both had a good laugh over that one.

Amazing though the spell was, at first Colin didn't see how it would help him to find Harry, which was what he had been looking for.  But then he realized that Harry's shoe- or anything else Harry was wearing- was probably in the same place Harry was, most of the time.

By now Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all doing an essay for Professor Binns in the common room.  Colin edged closer, pretending to be part of a nearby crowd that was watching the Weasley twins playing exploding snap.  He kept hoping Harry would kick off his shoes.  He saw Harry's wand in the bookbag, but somehow it seemed a bad idea to enchant something that was already powerfully magical.  Finally, he saw a window of opportunity when Harry took off his glasses and set them on the table while he rubbed his eyes.  It took Colin only a split second to lean over as if tying his shoe, point toward the glasses, and whisper, 'Marco!"  Conveniently enough, nobody seemed to have noticed, because the Weasley's snap game had had a large explosion at about the same moment that diverted everyone's attention.   He gripped his wand firmly and whispered, "Polo!" and was pleased to feel it tug toward the back of Harry's chair.  Colin tried once more to find an opportunity to talk with Harry, then gave up and went to bed, feeling very happy that he'd at least be able to find Harry over the weekend, and he was sure to find a chance to talk to him then.

The next morning, Colin was awakened by the sound of his wand jumping off his bedside table and zipping across the room trying to impale itself in the dormitory door.  Since he'd never ended yesterday's incantation he realized that Harry must have walked very close by.  He caught the wand before it woke the others in the dormitory and hurriedly pulled on his robes and cloak, grabbing his camera and the picture to be signed, and burst out the door and down the circular stairway.

Sure enough, Harry had just walked right past his dormitory door on his way down from the second-years' room at the top of the staircase, and it looked like he was about to exit through the portrait hole.  But best of all- Harry was alone.

"I- er- heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Harry!" he fibbed, trying to stick his wand into his pocket and hold it there in an innocent looking way.  The wand was at close enough range that it seemed to be struggling hard to break free and head straight for Harry.  He wondered if Harry realized there was nobody else anywhere near the stairs this early in the morning.   "Look what I've got here!   I've had it developed, I wanted to show you-" he thrust out in his other hand the photo of Harry and Lockhart.

Harry smiled as he looked at the photo. 

"Will you sign it?" Colin asked eagerly.

"No," said Harry flatly, "Sorry, Colin, I'm in a hurry- Quidditch practice-" said Harry, sleepily.

Colin realized with a thrill that Harry was wearing special red robes and carrying a broomstick.  His head nearly exploded with questions as he scrambled awkwardly through the portrait hole after Harry, keeping one hand firmly holding the wand in his pocket.

"Oh, wow!  Wait for me!  I've never watched a Quidditch game before!"

"It's really boring," said Harry quickly.  Colin wasn't fooled in the least by Harry's modesty.  He looked up at Harry with even more admiration.

"You were the youngest House player in a hundred years, weren't you Harry?  Weren't you?  You must be brilliant.  I've never flown.  Is it easy?"  Colin's flying lessons with Madam Hooch began next week, and he was both excited and anxious at the prospect.  "Is that your own broom?  Is that the best one there is?" he continued, thinking of the broomstick that Brian had shown him back in Diagon Alley.  Colin was practically running to keep up with Harry, who seemed to be in quite a hurry to get to the Quidditch field.  Colin wrung his brain to remember Brian's description of Quidditch, which had gone by in such a blur.  _Was that really only a week ago? Colin thought._

"I don't really understand Quidditch," Colin continued, somewhat out of breath by now.  "Is it true that there are four balls? And two of them fly around trying to knock people off their brooms?"

"Yes," said Harry.  "They're called Bludgers.  There are two Beaters on each team who carry clubs to beat the Bludgers away from their side.  Fred and George Weasley are the Gryffindor Beaters."

Colin felt a surge of new respect for the prankster twins.  "And what are the other balls for?" asked Colin, tripping down a couple of steps when his grip on his wand loosened and it tried to go shooting out of his pocket toward Harry's head.  He caught it before it fully left his pocket and thankfully managed not to fall over.

"Well, the Quaffle- that's the biggish red one- is the one that scores goals.  Three Chasers on each team throw the Quaffle to one another and try to get it through the goal posts at the end of the pitch- they're the three long poles with hoops on the end," answered Harry.

"And the fourth ball?" asked Colin, knowing the answer to this one.

"-is the Golden Snitch," said Harry.  "And it's very small, very fast, and difficult to catch.  But that's what the Seeker's got to do, because a game of Quidditch doesn't end until the Snitch earns his team an extra hundred and fifty points."

"And you're the Gryffindor Seeker, aren't you?" said Colin in awe.

"Yes," said Harry as they left the castle and started across the dew-drenched grass.  "And there's the Keeper too.  He guards the goal posts.  That's it, really."

Colin kept asking Harry questions about Quidditch and his broom and flying all the way down the sloping lawns to the Quidditch pitch.  He wished he could have asked to ride Harry's broom, but he thought he would definitely need both hands for that, and he wasn't ready to end his Finding Charm just yet.  It only seemed to be a problem at close range, after all.  Finally Harry reached the changing room and Colin called after him, "I'll go and get a good seat, Harry!" and hurried off to the top of the stands.

Colin carefully loaded a new roll of film into his camera- he chose an outdoor, high-speed roll this time- and he took a few photos of the flags flying over the pitch to get the roll started.  He waited for the team to enter the pitch, and got very lost in his thoughts as he waited.  He pondered the amazing change his life had taken, and how incredible it was to be here.  He realized he'd never been so happy in his life, not even before mum and dad were divorced.  He realized how much he missed Dennis, and how much he enjoyed Potions despite his inability to impress Professor Snape.  

He didn't know how long he'd been thinking when he was snapped out of his reverie at the sight of the Gryffindor team soaring out over the field on their broomsticks.  Colin sat on his wand and started snapping pictures wildly as Harry raced the Weasley twins around the stadium.  It looked so graceful, flying… the wind whipping through their hair.  And Harry was the fastest flier by far.  "Look this way, Harry!  This way!", Colin called out, trying to capture Harry's face and hoping they wouldn't just look like speeding reddish blurs on film.  Colin was disappointed when the Gryffindors all landed only a minute or two later.

He looked down onto the pitch to find out why and saw the Slytherin team, dressed in green robes, walking onto the field carrying broomsticks.  At first Colin thought maybe the Quidditch practice was a friendly match between the two teams, but that illusion vanished rapidly as he heard them shouting angrily at one another.  Colin looked over and saw Ron and Hermione headed onto the field and decided he'd better get closer so he could hear what was going on.  

Just as he was reaching field level he heard a loud bang and saw a jet of green light near Ron Weasley, which knocked him backward onto the grass.  The Slytherin team was laughing hysterically, and Harry and Hermione lifted Ron by the arms to help him off the field.

"What happened, Harry?" he asked, wide-eyed, wondering who had attacked Ron and what they'd done to him.  "What happened?  Is he ill?  But you can cure him, can't you?" he asked anxiously, hopping alongside them as they left the field.  Ron certainly looked ill.  He gave a huge heaving burp and glistening slugs dribbled down his front.  _Ewww, so that's the sort of thing wizards do to one another when they fight.  Definitely worse than a bloody nose, thought Colin.  He jammed his wand as deep in his pocket as possible and raised his camera with both hands.  "Oooh, can you hold him still, Harry?"_

"Get out of the way, Colin!" said Harry angrily.  Colin stepped aside and grabbed his wand from midair just before it pelted the back of Harry's head.  _Good thing he's not tall or I wouldn't have been able to reach that, thought Colin.  __This finding spell can be very inconvenient._

He watched Harry, Ron, and Hermione head for Hagrid's cabin and tried to decide whether to follow them.  Just then a Slytherin player swooped by just above his head.  "You ought to think about leaving the field, you know.  We're practicing here."  Colin was about to do just that when Draco Malfoy landed his broom neatly in front of Colin's path and turned to Colin with loathing.

"You should know, my family has provided a scholarship to Hogwarts for years, Creevey," said Malfoy.  "Some of the best known Slytherins benefited from my family's generosity- Nott!  Lestrange!  Even You-Know-Who himself!"  Colin felt a twinge of guilt for not having written a thank-you to the Malfoy trust yet.  Draco drew very close to Colin and kept speaking, his face twisted with malice.  "But never, _never did my family think we'd be providing the money for a mudblood to get to this school.  It's hard to believe that you bought second-hand books with the best wizard gold there was.  What did you do with the rest of it, Creevey?  Obviously you didn't spend it on a nice new cauldron!" he sneered.  Colin could hear the blood pounding in his ears as Draco continued, "My dad gives me a list of students on the trust, asks me to help introduce them to the right people.  Almost all of the students on the trust are Slytherins, and the few who aren't are certainly friends of Slytherin because of our influence.  We've always been selective about who we choose.  McGonagall said you had a clear amount of ambition and determination, but of course nobody could guarantee where the sorting hat would put you.  She didn't mention that you don't have a drop of wizard blood in your veins!  I want you to know, Creevey, the only reason you got the trust this year is because you're the __only new student who applied.  There's nothing special about you.  __You don't belong here." Draco hissed.   Colin fingered his wand and wished he knew how to make Malfoy belch slugs.  Malfoy spoke more softly and hatefully as he went on, "And you can kiss Hogwarts goodbye, Creevey.  I told my father how you've insulted our family by drooling over Harry Potter like his own personal lapdog.  Your scholarship is __over."  Without waiting for a reply, Draco took off hard and zoomed away on the broomstick, and started encouraging a Slytherin Beater to send a Bludger at Colin.  Colin had to run off the field to get away from it, and he didn't stop running until he had reached the far shore of the lake._

Colin stared up at the castle, looming spectacularly above the lake, and felt his eyes fill with tears.  All the worst things he'd heard about the Slytherins were true.  Malfoy hated him- just because his parents weren't wizards.  Malfoy was making sure he lost his scholarship.  Malfoy even seemed proud of the fact that his family had sent You-Know-Who, the most feared and murderous wizard in history, to Hogwarts.  Colin didn't want the Malfoy Trust's money anymore.  But how else could he possibly afford Hogwarts?  He wondered how many miles away the nearest petrol station that would let him hold a carwash might be.  He tried to think about how many carwashes would equal his tuition and gave up in despair.  He collapsed in tears on the banks of the river, feeling the water lapping over his knees as he wept.

Suddenly he felt a cool touch on his burning cheeks and looked up- and saw through his tears a gigantic tentacle emerging from the lake.  The giant squid seemed to be-  but it was impossible- wiping away his tears!  He heard Malfoy's words ring through his head, "You don't belong here!" and the squid seemed to be answering them with finality, "Yes, you do."  He ran his hand gratefully along the back of the tentacle.  "Thank you," he whispered.  The tentacle curled around Colin's shoulders, alarming him for a moment when he thought he was about to be dragged into the water.  Then the tentacle gave him what was unmistakably a hug and withdrew back into the lake.

Colin stared out across the surface of the water, feeling all the anger and hurt drain from him and filling with a sense of purpose and a calmness.  He would find a way to stay here.  He didn't know how, but there had to be a way.  _I belong here.  And besides, his scholarship wasn't gone just yet._

Numbly, Colin dragged himself to the Great Hall for lunch.  He had just finished eating when the other shoe dropped- Professor McGonagall came to the table.  "I'd like a word, Mr. Creevey, if you please."

Colin nodded and followed her to a small office with a welcoming fire on the first floor.  McGonagall took a seat behind an enormous desk and look at him with a very serious expression.

"Mr. Creevey, as you know your costs for the year had been generously covered by the Malfoy Family Trust," she began ominously, as Colin nodded glumly.  "The Malfoy family traditionally selects students to support with its trust from among multiple applicants, favoring the Slytherins.  Of course, it is impossible to predict the house that any first year student will be sorted into.  In the past, the Malfoy family has looked at the personality traits of the applicants and has re-evaluated their merit at the end of every academic year to determine whether continued support was appropriate."

Colin felt his mouth go dry, knowing what was to come next but unable to stop this from happening.  Professor McGonagall breathed in deeply through her nose and raised her chin with what seemed to be barely controlled anger as she continued speaking.  "This year, the Malfoy family has made an exceptionally unusual request to terminate the support of any students outside of Slytherin immediately.  While there are other students affected, your situation is perhaps the most dire.  There are other scholarship funds, but they require evidence of exemplary accomplishment in one or more fields of study.  As you have been here only a week, we can hardly hope to evaluate your academic progress at this time.  Now, your tuition has already been paid by the trust through Christmas Holiday, and the funding for your school supplies has already been spent.  You need not worry about repaying the Trust for those expenses.  However, it seems clear that you will need to find a different source to cover your tuition bill starting in January."

Colin felt his knees buckle slightly and he steadied himself on Professor McGonagall's desk.  At least he had a few months to try to figure out what to do, that was better than he'd imagined.  He opened his mouth to speak and heard only a croaking whisper, "Are there… any other scholarships I can earn by January?"

Professor McGonagall took another deep breath and looked at him with what seemed to be pity.  He thought he could see a tear in her eye as she answered gently, "All available scholarships have now already been awarded.  There may be more available for the next academic year, but there is nothing available that will help you to pay for the rest of this year."

"I used to wash cars…back home… when I needed money…" Colin began.

Professor McGonagall frowned gently.  "First year students are not permitted to leave the Hogwarts grounds.  I am afraid I cannot make an exception for you, Mr. Creevey.  I might add that few wizards use cars at all and that the nearest community, Hogsmeade, is entirely populated by the magical community.  You are most welcome to attempt to find ways to earn money while you are here, provided it does not interfere with your studies.  I will make the staff aware of your needs so they will bring any opportunities to your attention.  But as you no doubt can see, most students' needs are well provided for already."

Colin nodded mutely.

"I'm sorry, Colin," she added softly, as he turned to leave her office.


	4. Chapters 12 to 14: Ginny and Professor L...

CHAPTER TWELVE- GINNY

                Colin spent that afternoon in his dormitory, trying to think up ways to earn money fast.  He sort of wished he could re-read the copy of _From Modern Muggle to Magic that he'd left with Dennis, but from what he remembered the book emphasized only three options- politics (working for the Ministry of Magic), retail (open a store), or teaching.  Colin couldn't think of anything he could sell, and at the age of eleven knew he had no other options.  He lay down on his bed, closing his eyes and waiting for inspiration._

                He was interrupted by Rich and a second year student that he had never met, who wandered into his dormitory.  Colin sat up quickly and smiled, forcing away all his dark thoughts.  "Hullo, Colin," said Rich, "I was just telling Dean here about your photos of the castle.  He's from a muggle family too.  We've both been trying to describe everything to mum and dad, and here you've been able to show them what you mean.  My hand was so cramped after Snape's last essay, the last thing I wanted to do was write home!"

                Colin smiled as they looked at the collage above his bed.  Most of the other students had a single poster, of their favorite Quidditch or football team.  But above Colin's bed were his very best photos- the castle, the owl soaring over Hogwarts grounds, Professor McGonagall's desk transfiguring into a pig and then back into a desk again, softly simmering cauldrons- and of course, the autographed photo of himself with Professor Lockhart.  He was looking forward to adding the double signed photo of himself with Lockhart and Harry (once Harry signed it) and a few photos of Harry playing Quidditch- he hoped one of the ones from this morning would turn out well.

                "Wow, these are really nice shots," said Dean approvingly as he looked more closely at the photos.

                "You think so?" said Colin, beaming with pride.  "Thanks!  Muggles can't see them move though, so I can't really show my dad everything.  The ones moving the most just look blurry to him.  But he could see the castle and the cauldrons OK, I think."

                "Do you think I can have a copy of that castle photo?" asked Dean excitedly.  "That would be wicked!  I'd love to show that to my mum, I think she'd love it.  She's always taking us around old castles in Wales during summer holiday."

                "Sure!" said Colin.  "I was going to make some other photos anyway tonight, I can make a copy of this too!"

                "You're a regular photo studio, Colin.  You know, I hear Felicity's ruined that copy of the photo you took of her with Professor Lockhart.  I bet she's love a few extra copies- a few dozen maybe.  I heard someone teasing her about keeping a copy under her pillow and drooling in her sleep."  All three boys were in stitches over this one.

                Dean, wiping the tears from his eyes and gasping for breath, asked "Which one is Felicity?  The only first year Gryffindor girl I know is Ron's sister Ginny."

                "Oh, Felicity is a bit hard to overlook.  She's the one who fainted when George Weasley set of a Filibuster Firework in the common room last night, the blonde with perfect teeth?  Her dad is actually fairly powerful at the ministry, from what Phil says."

                "Well, I guess it's always a good idea to do favors for people like that," said Colin, hoping Felicity's dad had an endowment of some sort.  "I can throw in a few photos for her too."

                After dinner that night Colin headed back to the photo dungeon and turned the candles to licking red flames ('Incendio Sangre!') with hopeful thoughts swirling in his head.  _Maybe I can open a photo studio or print Hogwarts postcards or something, he thought.  The hours went quickly as he cheerfully worked away, whistling and humming.  It was much more fun brewing potions here alone than in Snape's class. He tried to imagine the look of revulsion on Snape's face if he'd started humming in Potions class and laughed out loud, his voice echoing in the empty dungeon.   He was delighted at the Quidditch shots- Harry looked spectacular outracing the Weasleys with his Quidditch robes whipping behind him.  When Colin's last photo had finally dried out he gathered up his things and returned the candles to their normal state ('Finite Incantatem!') and was almost skipping back to the common room when he noticed how unusually deserted the hallways seemed.  A quick glance at his watch told him why- it was after midnight, he was out of bounds and should have been back in the common room ages ago!  He froze suddenly, his good mood replaced by a gripping fear of getting caught.  He wondered how many points he would lose for being out of bed, and whether they'd send some sort of humiliating letter home to his dad if he got a detention.  He began walking very slowly and nervously, cringing at the echoing sound of his own footsteps and checking around every corner before heading down a new hallway.  When he reached the first staircase it was perhaps the most frightening- there was nowhere to hide.  Colin made it to the entrance hall without seeing anyone and proceeded up the grand staircase to Gryffindor tower. _

                On the second floor he heard footsteps and immediately jumped behind a large tapestry to his right, peering out cautiously to see who it was.  Even at a distance, there was no mistaking the long vividly red hair of Ginny Weasley, who was walking away from a girls toilet and walking down the hallway rapidly with a blank look on her face.  She was holding a book under her arm and obviously making no effort to hide or muffle her footsteps.  Colin was both relieved that it wasn't a teacher and mystified why she was out of bounds.  After glancing around to make sure she was alone, he tried to attract her attention.

                "Oi!  Ginny!  Over here!" he whispered as loud as he dared.  He was sure that she should have heard him, but she kept walking, expressionless as before, as though she had not.  He came out from behind the tapestry and stood in front of her, waving.  She looked right through him, seeming unusually pale, and kept going.  Colin wondered if she were sleepwalking, except that she was dressed in all her warm robes and her eyes were wide open.  She seemed to be headed up toward the common room, so he decided to follow her and hope he could keep them both out of trouble.

                Ginny was moving past the third floor when Colin saw something else moving.  He ducked behind a large suit of armor, which teetered briefly but to his relief did not tip over.  Then holding his breath he peered out and saw the tall, red-headed frame of Ron Weasley moving slowly down the hallway with a pained look on his face and frequently rubbing his right arm.  Colin was beginning to wonder if the restriction on being out of bed at night was enforced at all- or maybe the Weasley family had some weird exception.  He realized with a thrill that if Ron was up to something, Harry probably was too, so he whipped out his wand (carefully, so as not to move the suit of armor) and whispered "Polo!" and was disappointed when his arm jerked almost directly upward toward the Gryffindor tower.

                Ron , like Ginny, was making no obvious effort to hide, and Colin was about to try calling out to him when his heart stopped for a moment and he saw Filch, the caretaker, following Ron down the hallway.  Filch seemed to hate the students- or so he'd heard.  His clothes looked at least a century out of date, and his face looked only slightly younger.  His greasy hair hung down about his snarling face and he prowled the hallway with his scrawny cat, Mrs. Norris.  Colin ducked back into hiding, hoping that the rumors of how awful it was to be caught out of bounds by Filch were exaggerated and wondering what Filch had done to Ron's arm.  He stayed very still and listened, picking up the very faint footsteps of Ginny, who by now was well out of sight up the staircase, and fragments of conversation between Ron and Filch.

                "Yeh'll think more carefully next time, won't you now laddie?  I've let you off easy tonight..."

                "Easy?"  Ron made a derisive noise that became what sounded like it must be another slug burp like the one Colin had seen that morning.

                "Not on my nice clean floors, you don't!  You'll clean that up before you go to bed, or you'll be back tomorrow night, do you hear me?  Perhaps tomorrow you could polish the old manacles hanging from the ceiling of my office.  I always keep them ready just in case the Headmaster decides to use some of the old punishments again," he mused sadistically.

                "Yeah, fine, I'll clean it..." said a weary sounding Ron.  There were more sounds of footsteps and then some quick sloshing and scrubbing noises.  How long he'd been waiting there Colin did not know, but his sense of panic kept rising as he noticed Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, sniffing the air and heading slowly toward his suit of armor.

                Finally after more footsteps and sloshing noises which drowned out a few meows from the cat, he heard Filch say "Come along then, my sweet," and saw Mrs. Norris hesitate but then follow him down the stairs as Ron trudged up toward Gryffindor tower.  Colin cautiously emerged from behind the suit of armor and followed Ron at a distance through a few hidden doors and tapestries and up the stairs all the way to the Gryffindor tower boys dormitories.  He entered his dormitory, threw his newly developed photos down on the heap of possessions at the foot of his bed (where everyone else kept a trunk) and got into his pajamas.  _Really, he thought as he drifted off to sleep, __it's not so hard sneaking around at night._

                In the week since his conversation with Professor McGonagall, Colin hadn't found a way to earn even so much as a knut.  Evidently the pictures of Hogwarts looked like some ugly spooky ruin to the Muggle parents of his friends, so the idea of selling postcards wasn't any help.  It was obvious that Dad hadn't bothered looking at them long enough to tell Dennis what he saw, Colin realized with a twinge of hurt and frustration.  Colin had, however, had a number of other new experiences since then, and was thoroughly enjoying himself and trying not to think about how to pay for next term.  An hour ago he was trying to turn a walnut into a Golden Snitch, but he had succeeded only in making it sort of a lighter brown color.

                "Is there some way to turn walnuts into gold galleons?  Now that would be something worth learning!" he whispered miserably in Charms as he practiced swishing arm motions with his wand.

                "There's not," said Ginny, absently poking a finger through a hole in her frayed robes and glancing toward a very battered looking transfiguration textbook.  "I don't know why not though.  I wish there was."

                "Well, of course there _used to be," said Mhairi.  "The Philosopher's Stone would turn any metal into as much gold as you want, as well as making you immortal.  But obviously the ministry would have to restrict making new money magically!  Otherwise, why would anyone work, and how could people sell things?"  This didn't seem at all obvious to Colin until she'd said so, but he wasn't about to point that out.  He was pretty sure he couldn't just magic more money out of thin air, but hearing it confirmed was pretty discouraging._

Mhairi continued, "I know the leprechauns can make something like gold, but it disappears after a few hours; they think it's funny.  Other than that, there's just the Philosopher's Stone.  What did you say they did with the Philosopher's Stone last year after Harry saved it from You-Know-Who?" she asked Ginny.

                They both glanced over toward Ginny, who didn't seem to have heard them.  "Ginny?" asked Mhairi, stopping her wand movements to look at Ginny more closely.  Ginny was looking paler than usual, her bloodless face contrasting with her flaming red hair.  She was staring ahead with a blank glassy expression and waving her wand mechanically in the swish and flick motion with her right arm but didn't seem to be seeing or hearing anything around her.  Mhairi waved her hands about an inch in front of Ginny's nose.  "Ginny!"  But Ginny still didn't react at all.

                "What's up with her?" Felicity asked curiously from Colin's other side.

                "Dunno," Colin shrugged.  _But it looks exactly like what was up the other night, he thought.  __Maybe she needs a hearing aid or something._

                "Ginny!" Mhairi was yelling now, and she grabbed Ginny's left arm that had been resting on a stack of books and shook it.  

                Ginny dropped the wand from her other hand and blinked several times.  "Wha?" she said, her face growing even paler and more ghostlike with the embarrassment of realizing that half the class, including Professor Flitwick, were all staring at her.  She smiled back weakly, looking very tired.  "Sorry," she muttered.

                "Are you all right, Ginny?" asked Mhairi, concerned.

                "I- er- I dunno, I guess so, yeah," she answered unconvincingly.

                Professor Flitwick peered at her closely in an awkward pause and then continued with his lesson.  At the end of class, Ginny piled her things into her bookbag slowly, as if each one required great effort.  Then she hefted the bag onto her shoulder and wandered out without talking to anyone.

                "Is she sick?" asked Mhairi as they walked to lunch.  "She should see Madam Pomfrey, lots of people have colds."

                "I'm not sure that she's sick really," said Colin, lowering his voice and leaning in closer as he explained, "I saw her wandering off in her own world late at night just like that- out of bounds, even- but I thought she was sleepwalking."

                Mhairi's brow furrowed.  "What were you doing out of bounds?" she frowned. Colin didn't answer, and they separated to their house tables when they reached the lunch room.  Colin took the seat next to Ginny, who was listening to her brother Percy natter on about how Fred and George and Ron weren't setting a good example for her to follow.  "Mind if I sit here?" Colin asked.

                "Not at all.  Hullo, Colin," said Percy.  Ginny smiled tiredly.

                "Feeling any better?" asked Colin.

                "I'm OK, I'm just tired," said Ginny.

                "What, is she sick?" asked Percy, alarmed.  He looked more closely at her.  "You do look really pale, Ginny.  Mum will have my head if you're sick and I don't see to it that you get better.  I can write to her for some chicken soup or something… but you should really see Madam Pomfrey right away."

                "That's just what Mhairi was saying," nodded Colin.

                "But I don't think... " began Ginny weakly.

                "Her Pepperup Potion works right away.  Loads of students have colds this time of year, it's been so rainy and wet.  And you really don't seem yourself.  You can clear off right now, you'll still make it to your classes after lunch on time.  I don't want to have to write Mum and tell her how you're getting on."  Percy acted as though the issue was settled.

                Ginny dropped her fork and knife without comment and sighed heavily, leaving her barely touched plate of beans on toast and muttering, "Fine," as she lifted her bookbag again and left for the hospital wing.

                "You know, maybe you should have let her finish eating first," suggested Colin, who was suddenly realizing that he couldn't remember the last time he saw Ginny clear her plate, not even at the welcome banquet.

                "I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will have her bouncing back in no time," Percy replied.

                That afternoon in Potions, smoke was pouring from Ginny's ears (a side effect of the Pepperup potion) but she looked just as pale and tired as she had been that morning.  In the hallway waiting for class Peeves the Poltergeist teased her about her flame colored hair and all the smoke, pretending her head was on fire and throwing a bucket of water on her face, which seemed to only make things worse as Ginny shivered in the chilly dungeons, clad in sodden robes.  Colin unpacked his potions things from his cauldron and listened to Professor Snape's instructions.

                "Today you will be brewing Sticky Solution," he began with a sneer. "Madam Hooch has requested the Sticky Solution in response to student complaints about the invisible cushions on the school broomsticks.  It seems that some students feel that the cushions on the older brooms are falling off, and so Madam Hooch and I have offered you the opportunity to stick them back on before your first flying lesson tomorrow, if you can manage to brew the potion correctly this afternoon."  He gestured toward a row of broomsticks neatly stacked against one wall.  With an evil grin on his face, he added  "Of course, if you don't brew the solution adequately, you will feel the difference tomorrow."

                In no time, Colin's cauldron was simmering away with a golden brown solution and Snape was sweeping around the room, praising anything a Slytherin had done well and criticizing only the Gryffindors' errors.  Today there had been a large number of errors to sneer at- Felicity's solution thickened too quickly and became a black, tarry mess stuck to her cauldron in a matter of seconds.  Snape's criticism had brought her to tears, and she seemed unsure whether to try to rescue what she had or start over again.  Several other students seemed dangerously close to having their potion turn out like hers.  Ginny was standing staring at her half-full cauldron without chopping anything or stirring the potion at all and seemed headed for trouble.

                "You still don't look well, Ginny.  Maybe you should head to the hospital wing.  It's really spooky to see you so out of it."

                "What do you mean, out of it?  I'm just tired," she whined, snapping out of her reverie.  "I wish Percy had left me alone."

                "But it's weird, you don't see or hear anything around you, like you were in Charms today," he lowered his voice, "Or wandering down the hallway last Saturday after midnight-"

                "I  haven't been out of bounds!" she whispered, shocked.  "I don't know what you mean.  I- I was - up in my dormitory writing in my diary last Saturday night.  I'm fine, Colin, I'm just tired, and I don't want to be fussed over!" she said looking confused and irritated, and she turned away.

                Just then Snape called the attention of the class to the way Slytherin Charon Morkoth had added her diced frog liver at just the right speed.  Colin glanced over at Charon's cauldron and snorted, rolling his eyes.  It wasn't like it took any special talent to add the frog liver; the tricky step was dicing the pickled murtlap growth and adding that to the Potion.  He was about to tell that to Chuck when he noticed that Chuck was looking cross as he ladled his runny yellow potion hopelessly.  Colin looked over at Charon and noticed that she wasn't beaming with pride like the other Slytherins who had been praised, even though her potion seemed to be doing better than most of her classmates.  Instead, she looked mortified and angry, as though she knew she didn't deserve the lauds.  _She dislikes Snape as much as I do.  She doesn't like to be singled out just because she's in Slytherin.  Colin felt sorry for her suddenly, even sorrier than he was for his classmates who struggled with their potions.  Snape swept over to Colin's cauldron and paused, as usual, as if determined to find something wrong.  Finally he gave Colin a piercing look and swept away wordlessly.  Colin knew his potion happened to look perfect, and he intended to force Snape to admit it sooner or later._

                A few seconds later, Charon's potion was in serious trouble.  It had turned brown and was thickening much too fast, and she was anxiously reducing the flame and trying to stir.  Colin knew she had less than a minute before her potion ended up like Felicity's. 

                "Teacher's pet's not all that hot, is she?" muttered Chuck, grinning.  All the Gryffindors seemed delighted at the prospect that Snape's model student would go down in flames- all except Colin.  He felt very sorry for her, more than anything else.

                Charon looked around in a panic and caught Colin's eye.  She mouthed "Help!" and looked at him pleadingly.

                Colin paused.  "Beetle juice," Colin mouthed back, not sure why he was helping.

                Charon's face brightened, and she nodded, grabbing a vial of beetle juice and adding a few drops to the potion and stirring feverishly.  It worked.  Several minutes later her potion was still thicker than it should have been, but disaster had been narrowly averted.  Professor Snape stopped by Charon's cauldron again.  "Did everyone notice the way that Charon has saved her potion from becoming too thick by adding just a few drops of beetle juice at the right moment?  That showed excellent resourcefulness.  Five points for Slytherin."  Charon blushed and looked abashedly across the room at Colin as if to say thanks and sorry.  Snape seemed to notice, and turned quickly to follow her eyes across the room as Colin pretended to be busily stirring his potion.  At the end of class it was Colin's Sticky Solution that was used on most of the cushions, though a few Slytherins insisted on using Charon's and had to reapply it several times.  Charon managed to avoid sticking one on herself.  Colin wondered which solution she would have used.

                When class was ended, it looked like Charon was about to come to talk to him when she was pulled away by some Slytherin friends.  Colin packed his stuff and headed for Charms, but ran into Phil waiting for him right outside the door.  "What do you think you're doing, helping that lot?  She's a Slytherin, Colin, and speaking for your housemates we could all have used your help today.  Felicity is still in tears, Chuck feels horrid, and Ginny was barely functioning all day.  And you had to help Snape's favorite, and earn points for Slytherin while you were at it?  Thanks a lot, Colin."  Phil spat out these last words bitterly, looking irate, and stormed away without waiting for an answer.

                _Why did I help her?  Colin wondered.  He only said one word.  If he'd told Felicity "Beetle juice" he was sure she would have added too much or too little and still wound up in a mess.  Even if he'd figured out what Chuck had left out it would have been too late to fix things.  And Ginny still seemed lost in another universe, helping her would've meant doing it for her.  But even as he justified it to himself, he was kicking himself at the same time.  __A fat lot of help Charon would have been to me if I'd gotten stuck.  She did what Slytherins do best- she used whatever means she could to reach her goal.  She used me.  __Phil is right, I let everybody down.  And yet he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he would help her all over again, but he couldn't put his finger on why.  Frustrated at himself and everything else, he decided not to think about it again._

CHAPTER THIRTEEN- THE BIRTHDAY PARTY

                The next day, Colin had a distraction that took his mind off Ginny completely.  Professor Lockhart asked him to stay behind after class, and he walked past the usual group of giggling girls that surrounded his desk as the lunch bell rang.

                "Ah, Mr. Creevey, I have an opportunity for you!" Lockhart said, clasping his hands together before his lavender robes and smiling broadly.  "Professor McGonagall informed the staff that you were - er- hoping to earn a bit of money, and I think I have just the thing," he said, tapping his nose with his forefinger.

                "Oh, yes please!" said Colin enthusiastically, hardly believing his luck.

                Professor Lockhart smiled again.  "Well, it just so happens that next Friday is my thirty-fifth birthday!"  Lockhart paused, and Colin sensed that he was supposed to comment on this, so he replied.

                "Oh!  Happy Birthday Professor!"

                "Yes, yes, thank you!" beamed Lockhart, waving his hand dismissively.  Then he continued, "Each year I invite about a hundred or so of my dearest fans to my birthday party to join me in celebrating- me!" he said winking.  "I usually hire a professional photographer to capture the moment, but given your interest in photography and the fact that you're a fan yourself, I thought perhaps you'd like to take the job this year, for ten galleons.  Of course I can give you useful advice on how to improve your photos- I'm something of a photographer myself, wherever I travel I always keep my camera there."

                "Oh. yes, Professor, I'd like that very much!" he said, bouncing with excitement.

                "Let's meet up on Friday afternoon then, and I can give you some pointers and explain what I have in mind."

                "Thank you, Professor, I can't wait!" Colin answered.

                _Ten galleons!  he thought, excitedly.  Then he realized how far ten galleons was from the five hundred he needed and swallowed hard.  He pushed that out of his mind and forced himself to focus on getting ten shiny galleons and how honored he was to be going to this party at all._

                Friday afternoon he met Lockhart to receive his instructions.  "I'd like a photograph of myself with each guest (to send to them after), photos of me with the birthday cake in each of my robes, me with the band, that sort of thing.  I've arranged to use the Great Hall, after dinner, of course- mind you bring plenty of film!" Lockhart cried out cheerily.  His tips on how to take good photos were somewhat less than helpful.  "Always make sure the lens cap is off before you push the button!  Try to have your subject- me- in the center of every frame.  Hold your hands as still as you can while pushing the button!  Make sure you're not too far away so you can see my smile!" and so on.  It occurred to Colin that Lockhart seemed to know even less than he did about photography- but then, who wouldn't be a little egoistic, if they had fought and subdued so many dark creatures as he had?

                To his great relief, Colin found that most of the broomsticks were adequately cushioned for their first flying lesson.  The comfort, however, didn't result in any spectacular feats on the broomsticks.  He nearly fell off every time he tried to turn left, and Chuck's broom had a slight list downward and to the left that he had to keep fighting like a broken wheel on a supermarket cart.  Colin wondered how Harry made it look so easy.

                That night before he wrote an essay for Professor Flitwick on Levitation Charms he sent Dennis almost all of the muggle money he had left with instructions to buy more film, along with another long letter and his latest photos.  By Colin's calculation, he would only be making two galleons profit on the party, since the film cost the equivalent of eight galleons.  He hoped he ended up with leftover film.  Fortunately, now that he knew about Floo powder and portkeys from the _From Modern Muggle to Magic ook, he no longer needed money for the train ride between London and Liverpool- he just needed to find a magical place near home that he could get to for Christmas and at the end of the year.  Chuck had offered to lend him a pinch or two of Floo powder until he could buy his own in Diagon Alley during the Christmas holidays.  And any profit was that much closer to staying here at Hogwarts._

                Colin took several deep breaths and surveyed himself in the mirror.  He could hardly believe it was time for Lockhart's party already, and he'd checked and double checked his camera and film and even washed behind his ears for the occasion, and tried to look extra nice.

                He left his dormitory and was just exiting the portrait hole when Felicity was on her way in from dinner.  "Is it true?" she asked breathlessly.  "Chuck says you're taking photos of Professor Lockhart's birthday party!"

                Colin smiled.  "Yeah, I'm really lucky he asked me."

                Felicity paused.  "Do you think you could help me get in?  I could be your assistant!  And I'd love to have a copy of some of the photos-"

                Colin laughed, "I haven't even taken the photos yet!  And I don't think I can get you in, probably everyone there will be important and you would stand out too much."  At this, Felicity pouted and flounced away angrily, leaving Colin wondering what he'd said wrong.  But he shrugged and headed into the Great Hall.

                It was hard for Colin to remember that dinner had ended only moments before.  Gone were the great tables for each house.  While no guests had arrived yet, there were numerous small round tables each seating about six that were clustered around the edges of the room.  In one front corner, the band was setting up their drums.  In the other front corner, someone seemed to be setting up a huge cake and hiding it from view.  And across the front of the hall where the teachers usually sat were two chairs.  One was a large chair made of polished teak with gold trim and plush burgundy cushions.  It was easily big enough to be a throne.  Next to it was a much simpler and smaller oak chair with a matching burgundy cushion.  All around the walls were framed photos of a winking, smiling Lockhart, and burgundy streamers soared across the ceiling.  Lockhart came striding toward Colin, resplendent in robes of Navy blue.

                "Excellent, Mr. Creevey so glad to see you here!" he said, smiling broadly.  He directed Colin to start with pictures of the room and the cake and then spend most of the evening photographing Lockhart with the guests.  Colin nervously started snapping photos of the decorations and the band as the guests began to arrive.  To Colin's surprise, they were mostly witches, very few wizards, and almost all of them were about his mum's age.  The guests wore fancy robes of all different colors, which made the Great Hall look very different from when it was filled with students wearing a uniform Hogwarts black.  The band played softly in one corner and witches queued up in front of the great throne, patting their hair.  Lockhart nodded for Colin to stand before the throne, and then Lockhart swept in to great applause and took a seat on the huge chair.  Each guest shook Lockhart's hand, asked him to sign a book or two, and then sat in the smaller chair and smiled for the camera.  Colin was startled to hear Professor Lockhart's voice behind him when he could see the professor in the photo directly in front of him.  He turned and looked around quickly.  The dance floor was entirely empty except for a long line leading to Lockhart's chair, but a small machine in one of the back corners of the room was blowing burgundy bubbles which each said a sentence or so in Lockhart's voice when they popped.

                "My ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples," he heard from somewhere on his left as he took a picture of Lockhart with a smiling blonde witch.  After an hour of this, Colin's shoulder ached and he was thankful for the breaks every half hour when Lockhart changed to a different colored robe.  He had to admit he was exhausted, though he tried to smile pleasantly even at the woman who had gotten in line five different times for a new photo.

                Finally, Lockhart seemed to decide that everyone had been photographed at least once and he wandered over to the hidden cake table, his glittering silver robes sparkling against the burgundy drapes.  "And now, the moment you've all been waiting for," he said, clapping his hands twice as the drape was pulled aside to reveal a magnificent five-tiered birthday cake.  Dozens of miniature models of himself about five inches tall in all different colored robes were wandering around the different tiers of the cake.  "If I may say a few words," he asked, as the crowd murmured their approval of the spectacular cake.

                "I'd like to thank all of you for coming here today to celebrate my birthday!  It was thirty-five years ago today that I entered this world, and already I've made such a difference!"  The crowd nodded in agreement.  Colin scanned the crowd quickly during Lockhart's speech and was surprised that Harry wasn't here, and neither were any of the other professors, or anyone who looked like a dignitary of any sort.  He quickly realized he ought to be taking photos again and drew his attention back to Lockhart, who was finishing his speech, as Colin snapped away.  ".... and so if you would all raise your glasses... to me!"

                All his guests raised elegant glasses full of some sparkling fluid and toasted "To you!" as they drank.  Lockhart began to cut the cake, and three of the miniature Lockharts surveyed their reflection in the blade of the cake knife.  Several guests began scooping the miniature Lockharts into their purses.  Colin was beginning to feel sickened by the party but he couldn't quite put his finger on why.  He just suddenly didn't ever want to see a picture of Lockhart again.  He decided he must be very tired, was all.  He felt relieved and very weary hours later when the last guests left.

                "A job well done, Mr. Creevey!  How fast can you get these developed for me?"  Lockhart asked cheerfully.

                Colin paused, surveying a heap of completed rolls of film, and suppressed the sickened swoop in his stomach when he thought about how many hours that would be of developing pictures of the person he least wanted to look at right now, though he still didn't know why he felt that way.  "Er- next weekend, maybe?" he offered optimistically.

                Lockhart looked slightly disappointed, but kept smiling.  "I'll add a galleon if you can do them by Wednesday," he beamed.  "The sooner the better!"

                A large burgundy bubble popped on Colin's sleeve,  and he heard "One of my secret ambitions is to market my own range of hair care products!"  Colin stammered, "Thank you, and Happy Birthday, Professor, wonderful party..." and he nearly tripped over his robes in his haste to leave the great hall.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN- DENNIS' MISTAKE

                Dennis awoke on a rainy Saturday in October to find a spotted brown owl outside his window.  He brought it in quickly and dried off the latest stack of photographs and then unrolled the long letter.  Colin's letters were always the bright spot in his week, and this week he needed that somewhat more than usual because it had been a very discouraging week.  He'd gotten two bloody noses for "being weird" and yesterday he was chased by a bully all the way to Mrs. Godfrey's doorstep.  Since Colin had gone, Dennis had been spending more and more time with Mrs. Godfrey.  He's also spent loads of time washing cars ever since Colin had written about losing the scholarship.  He hadn't found the courage to tell Dad yet, he just left the letter open out on the table hoping Dad would read it, but so far Dad had shown no interest in the letter, he was far more interested in playing cards with his friends.  Dennis had tried showing Dad the photos, but Dad couldn't see things moving, to him the pictures just looked blurry.  Dennis decided it was better that Colin shouldn't know that Dad wasn't reading the letters.  But then, the fact that they were all addressed to Dennis and not Dad seemed to say something about what Colin expected anyway.  _Dad must have some funny way of showing he loves us, he thought, __and we just haven't noticed it yet.  So far Dennis had earned thirty quid per weekend, but he had caught a cold last weekend working outside in wet clothes, and this weekend it was raining too hard to consider washing cars.  School had been unbelievably dull, perhaps even more so compared with Colin's descriptions of Hogwarts._

                The owl flapped around a bit to shake the water off its feathers and stood near the radiator ruffling its feathers to warm and dry itself for a few moments.  It looked reluctant to head back out the window into the storm.  "If you wait around, you can take a reply back," he offered hopefully.  The owl hooted an answer happily.  Dennis was looking forward to hearing about Lockhart's party, but Colin had hardly mentioned it at all.  Instead, he talked about the upcoming Halloween feast with pumpkins big enough to stand in and the start of Quidditch season soon.  The snapshots of Harry on his broom were great, and there was one of Lockhart (whom Dennis recognized by now) with an elaborate cake.  It just took his breath away!

                Dennis pulled out a paper towel (he had no stationery) and tried to think of a reply.  He didn't want to write about Dad, or about the bullies at school.  He decided to write about his walks in the park with Mrs. Godfrey and Mum's recent letter saying she was coming to England for a concert tour next year.  He hoped Mum would stay this time.  He reminded Colin to send a "Halloween photo" for mum and asked for more information about Lockhart's party.  Then he sent off the owl and wondered what to do with himself for the rest of the day.  What he wanted was to talk to Colin, but of course that wasn't possible.  But really, he just wanted someone to talk to, and there was only one person he could choose: Mrs. Godfrey.

                He decided to bring some of Colin's photos with him to talk about, and he quickly sifted through them to exclude anything that was obviously magical, like flying broomsticks.  He ended up with a suit of armor, the castle, the lake, Hagrid's hut, and a few other stationary objects.  He tiptoed through the living room past Dad, asleep on the couch with empty beer bottles and playing cards scattered all around him.  Once Dennis was out the door he quickly headed out through the rain to Mrs. Godfrey's apartment hoping to find a more welcoming audience than Dad.

                Every time he went to visit Mrs. Godfrey she seemed to be walking slower and smiling more sadly.  Her daughter was continually being sent all over the country for her business, leaving Mrs. Godfrey at home alone.  "Hullo, Colin," she said smiling tiredly today.  "Lonely day with all this rain, isn't it?  I suppose we lonely ones are doing well to look out for one another.  Would you like some Toad-in-the-Hole, Dennis?  I was thinking of cooking some but it's not worth the trouble just for me.  Then you can tell me what Colin is up to and that will cheer both of us."

                The Toad-in-the-Hole was especially good, it reminded Dennis of his grandmother's cooking and was yet another reminder of why he missed Colin: he hadn't had a warm meal since Colin had left.  He'd been kicking himself for not learning how to bake spuds when he had the chance, and he tried to pay lots of attention when Mrs. Godfrey was cooking.  They were looking over the photos as they ate, and Dennis tried to remember to chew and swallow each mouthful before talking about the next photo.

                "Such an old castle.  It looks like it's in ruins!  Must be in Scotland or Wales, to have all those hills around, I think.  It's hard to imagine that place is full of students," she commented.  

                "I like old castles," said Dennis, "I don't think it's run down," he puzzled over the photo.

                "Suits of armor in the hallway!  Well, this _is old, those look authentic to me, and well maintained.  How old is this school?"_

                "Hogwarts was founded a thousand years ago," began Dennis brightly, "by four of the best wi- professors, and each house is named after one of them."

                Mrs. Godfrey nodded approvingly.  "I wonder why I've never heard of it.  Is it very small?" she mused, sifting through the photos.  She picked up one and paused, staring at it with increasingly knitted brows.          "I can't even tell what this is.  What am I looking at, love?" she held the photo out in front of Dennis' face.  To his horror, he realized it was a photo of Colin's transfiguration lesson, of Professor McGonagall's desk changing into a pig and back again.

                Dennis choked on his forkful of lunch and stared at the photo mouthing wordlessly in his panic at letting that one slip through into the stack of nonmagical-looking photos.  There had been no zooming objects, so it was easy to overlook.  But what did she see when she looked at it?  If the moving photos looked blurry, perhaps this was a focused room with an out of focus desk.  Or, perhaps she could see just a desk or just a pig.  He took a deep breath and tried to sound casual despite the long pause before his reply.  "Oh, that's just a teacher's desk.  And this one-"

                "A desk?" laughed Mrs. Godfrey, squinting at the photo.  "No, my eyes aren't that bad!  What is it, now?" she said, holding it right in front of him.

                Dennis heard his voice squeaking out, "Did I say desk?  I meant it's a pig!"

                Mrs. Godfrey paused and Dennis felt his face turning bright red.  "Don't be ridiculous," she began, "Now why would they have a pig at school?"  She watched his mounting panic and in a slow soothing voice said, "There's something you're not telling me, Dennis.  Is something wrong?"

                "Well... I didn't mean to bring that one...  I just didn't notice... we're not supposed to tell _anyone... but you believe me, don't you, you have to if you can see it..." he tripped over his words not knowing what to say._

                "Dear, dear!  It's all right now, take a deep breath and let's try again.  I wasn't supposed to see this picture, was I?"

                Dennis shook his head no.

                "Did Colin do something to his teacher's desk?  Is he going to be in trouble, is that it?"

                Looking back on it later, he realized this would have been the easy way out.  But before he'd thought it through, he found himself blurting out, "No, Colin  doesn't know how to do that yet!"  There was another long pause, during which Dennis was very aware of his quick breaths.  Then Mrs. Godfrey said slowly.  "Right.  So, what exactly happened to his teacher's desk?"

                Dennis tried to think up a lie, but couldn't.  Finally, he muttered, "She transformed it into a pig."

                "Transformed?"  There was a long pause while Mrs. Godfrey slid her glasses down to the end of her nose and scrutinized the photo with narrowed eyes.  Then suddenly, her eyes opened wide and she dropped the photo with a scream.

                Dennis looked up at her, frightened.

                "It's moving!" she said, backing away from the table in confusion and pointing at the picture.  "I thought it was a desk with a head and tail glued on each end, and then suddenly it started to change back and forth between a desk and a pig!" Dennis nodded.  

                "You see it moving too?  I haven't gone mad?" she asked weakly.

                Dennis shook his head no, and then cringed and began to explain.  "See, it's a wizard photo.  They all move if you develop them in the right potion..." Mrs. Godfrey's eyes turned to the other photos spread out over the table and she gasped as if seeing them for the first time, horrified. 

                "Why didn't I see it before?  The suit of armor is walking...the stars are twinkling... the castle, oh, heavens, look at the beautiful castle!  Dennis, what's happened?"

                Dennis felt guilty at how badly he'd shocked her, but there was really no going back now.  "Well, it's like this," he began with a deep breath.  "Colin is a wizard.  We weren't supposed to tell anyone because non-magical people don't know that wizards exist.  He's gone to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and all the photos in the magical world can move.  Only I thought non-magical people couldn't see it.  I'm really sorry I've given you such a fright, I didn't mean to!  Please don't tell anyone that I told you, it's supposed to be a secret."

                Mrs. Godfrey was still patting her chest and hyperventilating slightly but she seemed to be slowly calming down, to his great relief.  "A wizard?  Like hocus pocus?" she asked incredulously.  Colin nodded.

                "Well, now I've seen everything," she said sitting down slowly.  "I've lived all my life thinking magic didn't exist- I suppose it won't start hurting me now if it hasn't so far," she said, as if trying to convince herself.  Then she turned to Dennis and smiled.  "Don't worry, I won't tell your secret.  I'm still not entirely sure I believe you, mind, but I can't think of anything else to explain this except that I've gone mad, and I'd rather believe in magic than believe I'm crazy.  So here we are."  Dennis felt warm relief wash over him and he smiled back.

                "So tell me all about this magical world of Colin's," she began curiously and a bit fearfully, and Dennis knew this would be the best day he'd had since Colin had left.


	5. Chapters 15 and 16: A Midnight Stroll an...

CHAPTER FIFTEEN- A NIGHTTIME STROLL GONE AWRY

            The lure of an extra galleon had been too much for Colin to resist, so he spent most of the weekend and late into the evenings the next week trying to develop all Professor Lockhart's birthday party photos by Wednesday.  The idea that his task would soon be over was such a relief that he couldn't wait to finish.  And that was why he found himself, late one Tuesday night, deliberately staying in the photography dungeon until 2AM.  After all, he'd already discovered that being out of bounds wasn't all that hard.  As long as he was careful to check the corridors and hide at every noise he was confident that he wouldn't get caught.  

Fortunately the pictures had all turned out well; Professor Lockhart's smile was dazzling in every photo, although many of his guests weren't quite as photogenic.  Their photographic selves seemed somewhat less restrained than their true selves were at the banquet: the one he was looking at now of a tall witch with dark hair seemed to be trying to climb into his lap to hug or kiss Lockhart, while Lockhart's photographic self was trying to brush her off and smooth his hair for the camera.  

"Yuck," said Colin aloud, wrinkling his nose at the photo.  

When all the pictures had dried, Colin started gathering his things to leave the dungeons and was startled by how much heavier and bulkier the stacks of photos were compared with the rolls of film he'd started with.  He couldn't risk carrying them all in his arms, what if he dropped the whole stack on a muddy patch in the entrance hall?  He didn't want to go through developing all those again.  So he decided there was no getting around it- he would have to retrieve his book bag from Gryffindor tower to carry the photos back up.  He briefly considered just leaving the pictures down in the photography dungeon until tomorrow, but he didn't want anyone to find them- he could just imagine Snape's glee given the chance to throw them all away.  

            Colin didn't hear anyone but Peeves on his way back to Gryffindor tower, and Peeves was so busy cackling and throwing a pile of trashcans with their contents out the third story window, that he didn't even notice Colin hiding behind a nearby tapestry.  Then he heard Filch's livid voice calling, "PEEVES!  I'll have you this time!", followed by mad giggles from Peeves bouncing off the walls and away down the corridor.  Colin waited for Filch to pass and then emerged from behind the tapestry and headed back up to Gryffindor tower.  In his sleepy state it took him three tries to pronounce the password correctly- "Supercalafragalisticexpealidocious!".  He grabbed his book bag and dashed back out the door and past the portrait of the fat lady in the pink dress that guarded Gryffindor tower's entrance.  

"Shouldn't you be staying in bed?" she called out after him crossly, evidently put out at being awakened again.

            Colin rushed down to the photo dungeon, carefully loaded his bag with the photos, and headed silently back up the stairs.  He was on the second floor when he heard something and tried to dive into a nearby room.  To his dismay, the door handle that he grabbed screamed loudly and then the doorknob and entire door disappeared- evidently it wasn't a door at all but just a solid wall pretending to look like a door, one of the many curious features of Hogwarts- and a very inconvenient time for Colin to discover it.  

Colin started running; he'd only moved a few paces when Ginny came around the corner, apparently sleepwalking again.  "Ginny!  C'mon, we'd better run, I bet Filch'll come looking for that loud noise," he said breathlessly, grabbing her arm.  But Ginny resisted his tugs.  Then, with strength he would not have expected from her, she threw him down to the ground completely.  Many of the photos flew out of the open end of the book bag as it slid across the floor with Colin.  

"Hey!" he yelled angrily, scrambling back up onto his knees and trying to gather his pictures (which fortunately weren't harmed) as he watched Ginny march directly into a girls' toilet nearby. His right shoulder and knee were stinging, but not as much as his feelings.  He had a right mind to tell Ginny off later- being sick is no excuse for being rude, after all, he was only trying to help her, and Filch was sure to look everywhere to find the source of the noise.  And could she possibly have thrown him to the floor while sleepwalking?  Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he focused on how to avoid Filch.  Colin knew he couldn't very well follow Ginny into the girls' toilet to hide.  

Colin had started running to the nearest intersecting corridor again when Mrs. Norris appeared directly in front of him and mewed at him, her scrawny frame seeming to block the entire corridor.  Her lamplike eyes bulged in a disapproving sort of way, and Colin knew Filch would be following her call to the spot at any second.  He seemed to have some mysterious connection with his cat, and Filch knew the secret passages through the school better than anyone but the Weasley twins.

"Er- nice kitty," Colin murmured, backing away, and then turning to run the other direction- but too late, Filch came wheezing into the other end of the corridor, and Colin was trapped.

            "Well, look what we have here, a young student out of bed!" said Filch gleefully, smiling nastily to reveal several missing teeth.  "You'll come with me, lad, you're in serious trouble now…"

He was led back to Professor McGonagall's office, and left alone in there for several agonizing minutes while he wondered what was going to happen to him, before Professor McGonagall appeared with her cloak thrown over a tartan nightgown.  She seemed very angry.  

"Mr. Creevey," she said, "No student is permitted to be out of their houses at night.  _Explain yourself."  _

Colin tried to think before he opened his mouth.  He decided it was best to omit the part about having to go back for the bookbag, and especially to avoid any mention of Ginny.  There was no point in getting anyone else in trouble too, after all.   

Colin took a deep breath and began explaining.  "I was working in the photo dungeons and I completely lost track of time.  I'm sorry.  I was developing these photos for Professor Lockhart- he said I could have an extra galleon if they were done by Wednesday, and that's tomorrow-" 

"Actually, Mr. Creevey, Wednesday would be today.  It's two o'clock in the morning," McGonagall interrupted him, fuming.  But after glancing at the bookbag stuffed full of photos, it was with a somewhat softer tone of voice that she instructed, "You may continue."

"-so I was just going back to my tower when Filch found me."  Colin was feeling very small and hoping that was enough of an explanation.

Professor McGonagall shook her head, frowning.  "I expected you would have more sense than this!  If a galleon is really worth that much to you, Mr. Creevey, then your priorities are misplaced!  I made it very clear in our last meeting that your efforts to earn funding cannot conflict with your studies.  How do you expect to pay any attention in the classes that you're trying so hard to afford, if you don't get enough sleep?  How can Hogwarts ensure your safety if you are roaming the corridors in the middle of the night?  Twenty points will be taken from Gryffindor for your misconduct, and you will serve a detention.  Be grateful it isn't more.  If your fundraising efforts run afoul of the rules again, the Hogwarts staff will not offer you such opportunities in the future.  You have been warned.  Now, you will return to your tower immediately."

Colin was very grateful- and rather surprised- to have only lost twenty points.  Possibly Professor McGonagall took pity on him because she knew how desperate he was financially.  But the threat of losing any opportunity to earn money in the future was enough of a deterrent to convince him not to take the rules so lightly again.

Professor Lockhart seemed less than his usual delighted self when Colin gave him the finished pictures the next day- he muttered something about extra galleons not being an incentive to break rules, just reward for a job well done- and he gave Colin two extra galleons instead of one.  Colin suspected that Professor McGonagall had given Lockhart a firm talking to as well.  He was surprised at himself for laughing inwardly at the thought as he clutched his hard earned galleons tightly.

Professor McGonagall watched Colin with an exceptionally sharp eye that afternoon in Transfiguration.  It took all his effort to keep his head from nodding down on the desk as they had in Defense Against the Dark Arts that morning.  

            In the week before Colin was asked to serve his detention, he became even more convinced that he deserved the punishment he'd gotten, but far more nervous about what the detention would be like.  Ginny had been looking so pale and weak that Colin hadn't mustered the nerve to confront her about her part in getting him caught- nor had he found an opportunity to talk to her alone- and he somehow suspected she wouldn't admit to being out of bounds again anyway.  _Maybe she doesn't even remember it, maybe she really was sleepwalking or enchanted or something, he thought.  But he also didn't tell anyone else that she'd been out of bounds, because if word got around, he thought a detention might be enough of a strain to send Ginny to the hospital wing for a month or so.  _

From what Ginny had told him back on the Hogwarts Express, Harry had almost been killed serving detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest last year.  Since everyone knew the forest had werewolves living in it, Colin had to wonder why they would assign any student a detention in there in the first place. It was almost as though they were trying to terrify the students into behaving better.  Not that it was Hagrid's fault- he was nice enough from what Colin had heard, nothing like Snape – but Hagrid was twice as big as any normal man and nothing seemed to scare him.  Hagrid just took Harry to do school work that had to be done during his detention last year- the most terrifying work possible. Colin shuddered and tried not to think about it again.

            Professor McGonagall approached him at breakfast in the Great Hall the day before Halloween.  "You will be serving your detention with Hagrid tonight.  You will be in the entrance hall by seven-thirty." she said firmly.

            "You got a detention, Colin?  Was it Snape?  What happened?" asked Chuck.

            Colin had been relieved when his twenty points had gone relatively unnoticed. In fact, nobody ever found out he'd gotten in trouble at all.  Evidently Snape had been in a particularly foul mood the day Colin had been caught and had taken loads of points from various Gryffindors, so the points Colin had lost didn't really stand out.  

            Colin spread marmalade on his toast and resigned himself to explaining.  "You remember Lockhart's birthday party?  All those pictures I took?  He offered me an extra galleon if I developed the photos by last Wednesday.  So I stayed up late last Tuesday to finish, and got caught out of bounds coming back from the photography dungeon."

            "All for Lockhart?  You're nutters!  That guy's head is so swollen, he's forgotten that the world doesn't revolve around him!" said Winston, overhearing Colin.  Winston and Phil had never warmed to Colin, and while he didn't think they hated him the way Malfoy did, they seemed never to pass on the opportunity to point out Colin's failings.

            "He is not!" Felicity interrupted hotly, leaning over to look at Winston and tangling her blonde ringlets in her scrambled eggs. "Lockhart is brilliant-"

"Winston, you're just-" began Rich, leaping to Colin's defense.  

            "You know, I reckon you're right, Winston," interrupted Colin, wincing.  Colin thought it was best to keep the peace, because the thought of rising to Lockhart's defense made his stomach sick.  He'd never quite recovered his respect for Professor Lockhart after the end of the birthday party.  Much as he hated to admit it to himself, Lockhart just didn't seem capable of doing any of the heroics described in his books.  And even if he had, reading all about Lockhart's adventures in Defense Against the Dark Arts classes seemed to teach them more about publicity outreach than it did how to fight wicked creatures.

Felicity was speechless in her horror at hearing nobody rise to Lockhart's defense, but Rich looked almost relieved and very curious.  

Colin continued, "I didn't do it for Lockhart.  He was paying me to be his photographer. I did it because I need every galleon I can get if I want to stay here at Hogwarts."

            "If you want to stay here?  What, are you going somewhere, Colin?" asked Chuck, confused.

            "No, I lost my scholarship.  The Malfoy family took money away from all students who aren't Slytherin.  Draco Malfoy says he did it because I'm a mudblood, whatever that means."

            Several people at the table gasped at this; it seemed to cause even more outrage than the comments about Lockhart.  "He didn't really say that, did he?" asked Phil, open-mouthed.

            "Why?  What does it mean?" asked Colin, bewildered at the table's unanimous horrified response.  "He's called me that since the day he first saw me, on Hogwarts Express."

            "Oh, he's just horrible!  I hope Harry grinds his face in the dust in that Quidditch match!  That's an awful thing to say, it means that he thinks anyone from a muggle family has dirty or tainted blood." said Felicity, frowning.

            "Why would my blood be different from anyone else's?" asked Rich indignantly.

            "It's not!" answered Phil. "But they talk about having magic in your blood, and wizarding pride, and all these silly things and they think muggles are inferior, somehow, and that anyone muggle-born must be not as good as a witch or wizard with magical parents.  It's just stupid prejudice," said Phil, shaking his head.  "And I hope you didn't pay him any attention, Colin, Malfoy's a brainless git parroting whatever his father says.  They say Malfoy's father was right in there with You-Know-Who; I hear the whole family is a load of dark wizards." 

            It was the first time Colin could remember hearing something nice from Phil.  "Thanks," he said, smiling gratefully.  He wasn't sure how he felt about learning the meaning of Malfoy's favorite insult.  It seemed so ridiculous a prejudice; he'd known Malfoy was hostile from the beginning, and based on what Mhairi had told him about Slytherin it all fit together.  Colin felt that he could have guessed what "mudblood" meant, and it wasn't any big surprise.  On the other hand, seeing everyone's reaction at the table convinced Colin that he should be far more offended next time Malfoy said that.  He wondered if Slytherin House had any muggle-born students in it at all.

            In the outrage over Malfoy's comments about muggle-borns, Colin's detention was forgotten by everyone but him.  Hearing that he was serving his detention with Hagrid convinced him that he was headed into the Forbidden Forest for sure, and possibly to his doom.  He spent the day not concentrating in his classes at all, but battling ever-increasing bouts of terror, and trying to steel his nerves and remind himself that he was chosen for Gryffindor because he was courageous.  Still, it took a great deal of determination not to run and hide after dinner but to walk into the entrance hall and face whatever awful terror awaited him.

            "All right there, Mr. Creevey?" said Hagrid, peering down at Colin with concern.

            "Yes, sir," said Colin politely, feeling his mouth go dry.

            "Yeh look scared outta yer wits!  There's no reason ter be afraid of a bit o' hard work, eh?"

            Colin remained silent.  He didn't dare ask what his punishment would be, but his feelings of dread only increased as Hagrid led him out the doors of the castle, and across the lawn toward the edge of the forest.  Colin barely heard Hagrid's words as they walked.  

"Dunno how long this'll take us, but I need some help ter have everythin' ready by tomorrow.  Would o' offered yeh this fer some gold, with Professor McGonagall sayin' you needed a bit o' help wit' paying fer tuition- I had the same problem meself, after me dad died while I was in me secon' year here at Hogwarts, I remember what tha' was like.  But yeh went an' got a detention, so now yeh'll have ter to it fer free.  Might be fun, tho'…" said Hagrid cheerfully.

            When they reached Hagrid's hut Colin was just trying to suppress the somersaults that his innards seemed to be doing when they turned a corner, away from the edge of the forest, and walked into a garden just behind the hut, which was full of enormous pumpkins, taller than Colin and five times as wide.

            "We'll be carvin' 'em into lanterns for the feast tomorrow, a decoration fer the Great Hall, like." Hagrid explained.

            Colin felt a rush of relief followed by excitement as he walked around the pumpkins and looked at them all.  He'd heard from Ginny that Hagrid was growing enormous pumpkins, but he never imagined anything like this.  "Wow," he said breathlessly.  "Are they magic pumpkins?  How did you get them so big?"

            "Er- I just grew 'em carefully.  Lots o' water," said Hagrid, glancing furtively toward the edge of the garden where a pink umbrella was propped against the wall, "but they're just regular pumpkins."  Hagrid looked proudly around.  "Never got 'em this big before!  I think the flesh-eatin' slug repellent did the trick, ter tell yeh the truth."

            Soon Colin was carving great doorways in the sides and scooping out mounds of seeds, and he started talking with Hagrid in the moonlight as they worked.

            "My brother Dennis would love to see these.  He's two years younger, I'm hoping he gets into Hogwarts too- I think he will, though.  We're muggle-borns."

            "Yeh miss yer brother, do yeh?  Wish I'd had a brother, but it was just dad an' me when I was growin' up.  Mum left-"

            "Yeah, me too," said Colin.  "Dad's a milkman.  He's a bit too busy to spend time with us, though.  But we do all right on our own."

            "S'that why yeh need some money?  Yer mum gone?"

            Colin shrugged.  "We never had much in the first place.  Dad was pleased when I won a scholarship, but then the Malfoy trust took it away again, just because I'm not in Slytherin.  I hate Slytherin!" he added, kicking a pumpkin and hopping around nursing his toe for a few minutes.

            "S'all right, Colin.  Not all Slytherins are bad, yeh know, but there isn't a witch or wizard that went bad who didn' come from that house.  Gryffindor's abou' the best place yeh could end up, really, an' yer better off without Malfoy's money.  I'm sure yeh'll find a way ter afford things."

            "When I found out I was a wizard," Colin said in a bitter, quiet voice, "I thought I could just magic together all the money I needed, magic mum back home…" his voice trailed off as he fought back his tears.  

Fortunately, Hagrid seemed to be pretending not to look as he carved a cat-shaped window into one of the pumpkins.  "Yeah, that's why we keep ourselves secret from the muggles an' all, don' wan' people everywhere to think we can just make every problem go away with magic.  It just doesn' work that way.  But, there's a lot more good in life than bad, an' yeh just have to take it all together as it comes."

Colin nodded and let this advice sink in for a while as he worked.

"What d'yeh think?  Does this window look like a bat?" Hagrid asked, his wild whiskers peering out of a new window he'd carved.

"Erm- well, it looks more like a spaceship to me," said Colin shyly.

Hagrid laughed.  "Well, Colin, if yer any better at drawin' pictures than I am, I'll get yeh a stepstool an' a quill an' yeh can draw the pictures for me ter cut out."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN- HALLOWEEN

            Colin was bouncing off the walls with enthusiasm about the feast the next day.  The hallways were filled with the smells of pumpkin and cinnamon spices, and everyone who heard Colin's description of the pumpkins big enough for three men to sit in was about as excited about it as Colin was.  

            "Last time I had detention I had to spread dragon dung over the cabbages.  It took me three days to get it out from under my fingernails.  Boy did you get lucky," said an older girl enviously.

At breakfast, Colin heard that there would be live bats as decorations and there was even rumor that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons.  It sounded even more spectacular than the welcoming feast at the start of the year.

            Colin didn't forget to ask Chuck to take his photo before the feast so he could send it to mum, once he had his robes and hat on.  He loaded a very small roll of film in the camera just for the occasion, since he wanted this to be a muggle photo.  He brandished his wand over his cauldron (hiding the side with his name on it) for a couple of pictures, and then he and Rich and Chuck took pictures of each other and tried holding the camera out in front of them to get them all in the same picture together.  Then he mailed the roll off to Dennis to get developed, hoping Dennis or dad had money to pay for it.

            "Send me a copy of the photo, Colin, I want to see this- pictures that don't move!" marveled Chuck.

The Halloween feast was better than Colin could have imagined.  There were platters of chicken legs, mounds of Yorkshire pudding, and heaps of baked spuds.  The entertainment was great- Colin was particularly delighted with one of the dancing skeletons that kept losing its left arm every time it moved funny, and he took loads of pictures.  His housemates were delighted with the pumpkins.  The Weasley twins tried to find out how many people one pumpkin could hold, and they had six students inside (two of them hanging out the windows) before Professor McGonagall put a stop to things.  It was just as well that that game ended when it did anyway, because the pumpkin was starting to buckle under one of the windows.

There was only one thing missing that would have made the feast complete- Harry.  This was the second big feast Harry had missed, and while Harry had been in trouble during the Welcoming Feast, Colin wondered whether there was more to it than that this time.  He half expected another grand entrance- Ron and Hermione were missing too, and Colin had no doubt they were up to something interesting. So when the desserts appeared in front of him, he grabbed a few butter cookies and excused himself, running to the entrance hall and whispering "Polo!" to his wand.  It pointed down, toward the dungeons.  He was just about to head that way when he saw Ginny wandering up the stairs toward the second floor, in that same dazed state again.  

Colin paused, weighing the chance to talk to Ginny alone with his desire to find Harry.  But thinking of his scraped shoulder and Ginny's increasingly pale face helped him to make up his mind.  He decided this was the right time to confront Ginny about the last time she'd been in this state- now, before she got herself in serious trouble.  Then he could find Harry afterwards.  

He sprinted up the stairs after Ginny, but could see no sign of her when he reached the landing.  "Ginny!" he called out.  "Wait up!"  He chose a hallway and wandered most of the way down it before deciding she must have gone the other direction.  Halfway down the other corridor he slowed down as he saw Ginny floating high in the air, painting on the wall with her wand, in huge letters, with spatters of bright paint all down the front of her robes. 

"Ginny!  What are you doing?" he half shouted as he walked toward her in horror.  Ginny finished writing and came back to the ground, and without even looking up she marched back into a girls' toilet without replying- the same girls' toilet as last time, Colin noticed suddenly.  And wasn't it near this same spot that he'd seen her walking the first time she'd been out after hours?  He walked closer to the toilet and stepped in an enormous puddle flooding out from under the restroom door.

"Ginny, are you all right?  Ginny!" he yelled through the door.  He listened for an answer and heard anguished, echoing sobs from inside the bathroom.

He pounded on the door a few more times, calling out, "Ginny, are you OK?" and hoping for a reply; but the sobs went on unchanged.  He glanced over at the wall and puzzled over the graffiti Ginny had left:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

This made no sense to Colin at all.  When did Ginny learn to float like that?  They'd only just learned how to make objects fly today in lessons, and only Mhairi had managed to float her feather above the desk.  And if Ginny was sobbing and painting, she surely wasn't sleepwalking.  But what on earth was wrong?  Why was she crying?  What did those words mean?

Colin decided to say what he had to say then and there, calling through the door, in case he didn't have another chance.   "Look Ginny, it's me, Colin.  I don't know what's bothering you, but I don't think hiding in there is going to help.  I know you can hear me!  What are you doing?  Last time you did this, you scraped up my knee pretty badly when you pushed me, and I got a detention- and I think Filch will definitely be mad enough about that paint on the wall to give someone a detention again- and I'm not going to cover for you, you hear me?"  He listened for an answer, growing increasingly irritated.

Through the sobs he did finally hear something- but it didn't sound like Ginny.  It was a spitting, hissing noise that made his hair stand on end.  He took a frightened step back from the door and noticed a chain of spiders running along the wall out of the bathroom suddenly, as if they were fleeing from the hissing noises inside.  Chills ran down his spine as he surveyed the spooky situation and listened to the hisses and bumps from inside the bathroom.  Colin was just beginning to wonder how much longer he should leave when he saw Mrs. Norris appear, jumping up on a torch bracket and looking from the writing on the wall above her to Colin with an accusing mew.

Colin wasn't about to take the blame for this, not after what Professor McGonagall said the first time he'd gotten in trouble.  He decided to run and hide in the first room he could see, half ashamed at running away from trouble and half angry at himself for bothering to follow Ginny in the first place.  He passed the fake doorknob this time and blindly reached for another door, yanking it open and slamming it shut behind him.  He waited, panting, in the corner under a desk, expecting to hear Filch's screech in the hallway outside at any moment.

The first thing he heard was a girl's voice, shouting "Look!", followed by a few low words he couldn't catch, but it didn't seem to be Filch's voice.  He kept waiting.  Then he heard a rumble, like distant thunder, of many feet- the feast must have ended, and everyone was coming upstairs.  _That means Filch would never know who did it, Colin thought happily.  He sighed in relief- he was off the hook._

As the crowd passed the room he was in he slipped out the door unnoticed and joined in the throng which had gone suddenly silent and stopped moving when they reached Ginny's bathroom.  To his surprise, Colin saw that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were trapped right beneath the writing on the wall by the students who came down the corridor from both ends.  For a moment, nobody said anything.  Then someone called out through the crowd. 

"Enemies of the heir, beware!  You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

It was Draco Malfoy.  Colin felt a twinge of anger and he watched Malfoy push himself to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed.  But Malfoy wasn't looking at the letters on the wall; he was looking at something dark hanging from one of the nearby torch brackets.  Colin was on tiptoe still trying to make out what it was when Filch appeared.

"What's going on here?  What's going on?"  Then Filch looked over at the dark object and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat!  My cat!  What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked.  Colin realized with terror that the dark thing everyone was looking at was Mrs. Norris.  The cat's tail was stiffly hanging around the torch bracket that Colin had seen her leap up to only minutes earlier- only she wasn't moving at all now.  She seemed frozen, as motionless as a muggle plastic Halloween decoration.

Filch's eyes turned to Harry.

"_You!" he screeched.  "__You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her!  I'll kill you!  I'll-"_

"_Argus!"_

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers.  In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Ron, and Hermione and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch.  "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."  

Colin thought about coming forward to volunteer what he'd seen, but he realized that getting himself or Ginny in trouble wasn't going to get Harry out of trouble, and he didn't really want to tell on Ginny.  After all, Colin didn't see who killed Mrs. Norris, and he knew that it probably wasn't Ginny!  And why would a dead cat be stiff like that right away?  And what did that writing mean, and how did Malfoy seem to know what it meant?  Colin was still trying to decide what was going on and to do when Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster- just upstairs- please feel free-"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

The silent crowd parted to let them pass.  Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape.

Colin was so horrified that he forgot all about the camera dangling around his neck, and he regretted that he hadn't take any photos of Mrs. Norris before she was taken away.  As Colin passed the bathroom he paused and heard the low sobs that told him Ginny was still in there.  He decided to wait in the common room for her to return- and then he could try to convince her to go forward and at least take the blame for the writing on the wall.  She wouldn't be able to hide the paint all over her robes, after all, so she couldn't very well deny everything.

The common room buzzed with horrified whispers, but cleared out early as the very full students headed off to bed.  But Colin didn't see Ginny come back in, though he stayed up late alone in the common room, waiting.  He saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione come back in just after midnight, looking serious, but Colin fell asleep in a squashy chair in front of the fire before he knew it.


	6. Chapters 17 to 19: The Quidditch Game, t...

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN- THE QUIDDITCH GAME

            The next week Colin tried to pay lots of attention to who was investigating what had happened on Halloween.  He wondered whether he should tell anyone about what he'd seen on Halloween; and if he should, then who?  

Ginny was back to her usual, pale and wan looking self and seemed very distraught about what happened to Mrs. Norris.  Ron said she was a great cat-lover.  Colin didn't have much trouble convincing himself that she had nothing to do with Mrs. Norris, though he hadn't been able to catch her alone again to talk to her.  He didn't see a trace of paint on any of her robes and he suspected she had hidden the paint-splotched one in a panic, hoping she wouldn't be blamed for Mrs. Norris' fate.  She also seemed to be worried that Ron, Harry, and Hermione would be expelled- but Colin suspected that she was more worried that she would be expelled herself.

Colin wasn't alone in wondering what was going on, however.  People began talking about Mrs. Norris almost as much as they talked about Quidditch.

            "I dunno why everyone's so upset.  Mrs. Norris isn't dead, you know," said Seamus Finnigan, a second year boy, as they played with gobstones in the common room.

            Gobstones was a game something like marbles, except that the stones would squirt a foul smelling liquid in your face when you lost one.  Colin wasn't sure, but he sort of thought he liked the muggle version of the game somewhat better.

            "Not dead?  Oh come on, she was stiff as a board!  She must have been there for hours- you know, rigor mortis-" began Rich.

            "I don't think she'd been there all that long," offered Colin cautiously.

            "No, really, she's not dead, she's only been petrified.  I heard Professor Sprout telling Filch not to worry," explained Seamus.

"Petrified?  Is that really any different than saying she's dead?" snorted Rich.

            "Oh yeah, absolutely, it's nothing like.  Professor Sprout is growing some mandrakes, and when they get big enough they can be made into a potion and she'll be revived.  And it doesn't hurt her any to sit there made of stone while she's waiting for it.   I hope they grow slowly, I sure don't miss that moggie…" said Seamus.

            "I think it's supposed to take months!" said second year Dean Thomas excitedly, looking away from the shot he was taking and ending up hot squarely in the eye with a spray from his stranded gobstone.  "Ergh!"

"What were Harry, Ron and Hermione doing there, anyway?  They weren't at the feast," asked Colin.

            "I dunno.  Sounded like they went to a Halloween party hosted by the ghosts, and they were on their way back upstairs to the common room."

            Colin felt vaguely disappointed that Harry wasn't up to something more dramatic.  But then again, at least Harry seemed to have gotten out of trouble.

Filch had been scrubbing at the writing on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but it had no effect; the foot high words seemed to gleam brightly against the stone as if they were still wet.  Filch kept pacing outside the bathroom where Mrs. Norris had been attacked, red-eyed.  He would lunge out at unsuspecting students and try to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly" and "looking happy".

            But it wasn't until Herbology that Colin found out what the writing on the wall really meant.  He and Brian, the Hufflepuff boy he'd met in Diagon Alley looking at Quidditch brooms, were working in Greenhouse One on asphodel roots.  Everyone was talking about the upcoming Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match, and Brian commented, "D'you think it's safe to let Harry play?"

            "What do you mean, safe?" asked Colin, bewildered.

            "After what he did to Mrs. Norris?  The Chamber of Secrets, Colin!  That's serious stuff.  I don't want to be anywhere near the Heir."

            "You mean, you know what that writing on the wall meant?  Can you tell me?  What does it have to do with Harry?"

            "Some fourth year in our house has this book called _Hogwarts, A History and they read the whole section out loud in our common room the night Mrs. Norris was petrified, since we all wanted to know.  That's how I found out, I'm surprised you don't know- maybe Potter's been keeping it quiet.  I hear that all the copies of that book have been checked out of the library- he might have taken them all-"_

"I don't think Harry had anything to do with Mrs. Norris!  I think he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!  How can a history book can explain what's happening now?" asked Colin, irritated.

"Okay, you can judge the evidence for yourself, but I'm sure it's Potter," said Brian seriously.  Then he launched into the story.  "It seems when they built this place, Slytherin made an extra room that Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw didn't know about.  The room is called the Chamber of Secrets, and there's supposed to be some sort of monster inside that will kill anyone who's muggle born.  Slytherin thought only students from wizard families should go to school here, see.  Slytherin left the school sometime after they finished building because he was mad that muggle-born students were let in.  When Slytherin's own true heir arrived at the school they were supposed to finish his work and get rid of all students who were supposedly unworthy to study magic."

"So the Chamber of Secrets is what's been opened," said Colin, thoughtfully.

"Right.  By Slytherin's heir.  So enemies of Slytherin's heir should beware- and that means you, Colin, since you've got muggle parents."

"Beware of what, exactly?  And what makes you think Harry has anything to do with this?"

"Who knows what dark creatures Slytherin found?  Maybe it's a dragon.  But Potter was caught right at the scene of the crime!  Why wasn't he at the Halloween Feast?  It was the perfect time to sneak off and do something evil.  And who are his parents anyway, I hear most of his family is dead but they sound like an old magical family; he could be Slytherin's Heir.  He hates those muggles he lives with during the summer.  And how did he survive that evil curse You-Know-Who put on him without dying?  You-Know-Who killed loads of people, the best wizards around.   Ernie says Potter probably has evil powers and that's how he defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"But… I just don't buy it, Brian," Colin shook his head lamely, "I believe you about the Chamber and all, but I just don't think Harry's the Heir.  He wouldn't do that."  Colin glanced across the greenhouse at Ginny, still hearing the bathroom's echoing sobs in his mind. 

But those sobs hadn't really sounded like Ginny, he realized suddenly.  He'd seen Ginny crying more than once since Mrs. Norris was petrified, and the crying from inside the bathroom sounded…. hollow, and lower in pitch.  And Ginny hadn't looked remotely weepy when she walked into the toilet.  Was there someone else in the bathroom with Ginny?  All he really knew was that Ginny had been the one painting on the wall. 

With a start, Colin realized that Ginny had given the whole school a warning of danger coming.  Maybe Ginny was crying about something a whole lot worse than getting blamed for petrifying the cat?  He wondered if that meant Ginny knew who the Heir was.  Maybe that's why she was looking so pale, maybe she was under strain from trying to stop the Heir somehow… but what could a first year possibly know to fight against Slytherin's monster?  _But Harry was only a first year when he fought against You-Know-Who to save the Philosopher's Stone, he realized.  __And somehow Ginny learned to levitate.  He wondered if Ginny had told Harry everything she knew, and maybe that's why Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned up at the wrong place at the wrong time.  Maybe it wasn't a coincidence at all…_

His entire outlook had changed in an instant.  Colin realized that Ginny had sounded an alarm, and inadvertently she protected him- if he hadn't run away for fear of being blamed for writing on the wall, he might have been the one petrified and not Mrs. Norris.  Or maybe worse than petrified.  But then, he wouldn't have been in that hallway anyway if it hadn't been for Ginny, he would have been downstairs in the dungeon, looking for Harry- _but I would have followed him up to the same place anyway, Colin realized.  _

But then, who was sobbing in the bathroom?  Was that the Heir of Slytherin, a girl?  Maybe Ginny had just confronted someone!  Charon's face floated through his mind for half an instant, but it hadn't really sounded like her either.  Maybe Ginny had some sort of duel in the bathroom…and Harry had come to help.  But with who?  The voice had an echoing, distant sort of noise, like someone crying with their head in a bucket…

His brain was still churning from all this when he saw Harry pass by in the hallway- Colin was still automatically walking where he'd be most likely to run into Harry between classes, since that was how he'd learned his way around the school in the first place.  He realized that Harry was the perfect person for him to talk to.  Harry was about the only person that Colin believed could defeat whatever was in that chamber.  Colin wondered why he hadn't thought of talking to Harry from the beginning.  Maybe if he told Harry all that he'd seen and heard, maybe then Colin could help Harry the way Ginny and Ron and Hermione were helping, and they could all bring down the Heir of Slytherin together, whoever she was.  Maybe Colin could help take the burden that was straining Ginny by doing some of the work himself.  Maybe this was the perfect way to get to know Harry better… he could start by telling Harry what Brian had said, and then pull him aside somewhere privately to talk about Ginny once he had Harry's interest.

"Hiya, Harry!" he called out brightly.

"Hullo, Colin," said Harry woodenly.

"Harry- Harry- a boy in my class has been saying you're-"

He strained against the throng of students in the hallway, but he was too small to fight the tide of people bearing him toward the Great Hall.  As he saw himself sweep past Harry he managed to squeak out "See you!" before he gave up.  There was sure to be another opportunity, after all.

Colin spent the month of November watching carefully for a chance to talk to Harry alone, and keeping an eye on Ginny, who seemed to be fading away under the burdens she'd put on herself.  Eager though he was to help, Colin had full faith that Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were onto the Heir.  He tried to use his Finding Spell to catch Harry alone, but Harry seemed to be on the Quidditch field surrounded by other students most of the time.  He'd noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione slipping into that same girls' toilet least once- Percy had noticed it too, and he told them off for it.  Colin hadn't seen Ginny on any more midnight wanderings, though, and he'd never seen anyone else go into the bathroom- evidently nobody really used that toilet; it was always out of order.  But Colin wasn't about to ruin his chance to be part of the effort to catch the Heir by talking openly about everything he'd figured out, so he wasn't able to convince any of the Hufflepuffs in Herbology that Harry wasn't the Heir of Slytherin.  

"You know, Malfoy seemed really happy about those attacks, you heard what he said- 'You'll be next'- and he hates muggle-borns- it's more likely him than Harry," Rich pointed out one day.

"Malfoy's not powerful enough to control a monster!  His marks are terrible!  But Potter is best friends with Granger; she's probably the smartest girl in the school, she could help him-" said Brian.

"But Hermione's muggle-born!  If Harry was out to get muggle-born students, why would he be friends with her at all?" protested Colin.

"Well… er… maybe he's not her friend and once he learns how to control the monster he'll make it attack her?" suggested Brian.  But even Brian didn't seem to believe that; Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the best of friends.  And Harry's mum was a muggle-born witch too.   The idea that Harry was Slytherin's Heir made no sense at all, and there wasn't a doubt in Colin's mind that Harry was tracking down the true Heir.

It was with a great deal of excitement that Colin headed out to the first Quidditch match of the year.  He had a fresh roll of film in his camera and he and Chuck and Rich wandered out into the muggy air and admired the banners streaming around the Quidditch pitch.  It seemed as though three-quarters of the school was rooting for Gryffindor- the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws seemed to hate Slytherin as much as the Gryffindors did- but most people didn't share Brian's opinion of Harry, only a few Hufflepuffs seemed worried.  Most of the school had turned out to watch the game and everyone else was cheering as loudly as possible for Harry and the whole Gryffindor team.

The team captains shook hands, and then he heard Madam Hooch's whistle and saw the fourteen players soar up toward the grey skies- Gryffindors in red, Slytherins in green.  Harry flew higher than anyone, probably looking around for the Snitch.  The entire Slytherin team had been bought brand-new Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-One broomsticks, evidently from the Malfoy Trust- _so that's where my scholarship money has gone, thought Colin, bitterly- and their brooms seemed even faster than Harry's Nimbus Two-Thousand.  But Harry was obviously the better flier- Colin saw him dodge a bludger narrowly first thing in the game.  But the strange thing was, the same bludger came back again and again and seemed to be picking on Harry.  After awhile the Weasley twins were guarding Harry on either side, whacking the bludger away repeatedly, while the rest of the Gryffindor team was falling apart under attack from the other bludger.  It was starting to rain, and the Gryffindor team spirits were darkening like the skies above. The scoreboard read Gryffindor 0, Slytherin 60._

"There's something wrong with that bludger," muttered Chuck.  "See there?  George- or Fred, I dunno which- just whacked it out toward that Slytherin Chaser, and it's supposed to go after whoever is closest- but see it's changing direction and heading right back for Harry again.  It hasn't gone for anyone else all game," he said, frowning.  "Slytherin must have done a spell on it-"

"Now, really!  Gryffindors can't pass up the chance to pick on Slytherin, can they?  Just because someone's losing doesn't give them an excuse for bad sportsmanship," came an angry voice from behind Colin.  He turned to find Charon Morkoth, bedecked in a green scarf, in the row behind him, cheering on a goal from Marcus Flint.  

Chuck scowled, but Colin smiled weakly.  "Hi, Charon."

Just then Gryffindor called a timeout.  Colin was hopeful that someone would figure out what was wrong with the bludger. 

Two other Slytherin girls were beside Charon.  Cruella was sneering from her left, and Peggy was eyeing them with trepidation from her right.  Charon continued,  "I mean, if Gryffindor wins, you won't hear me saying Gryffindor must have cheated or something.  I hear that Potter is a good seeker.  But I can see that Flint and Pucey are excellent Chasers, and that we've got some fantastic Beaters too.  I want Slytherin to win, but that doesn't mean I have anything against Gryffindor."

"But isn't it obvious why we don't like Slytherins, Charon?  Slytherin hated muggle-born students.  Snape favors Slytherins.  Malfoy acts like everyone is scum but Slytherins.  Who else but a Slytherin has anything to gain by enchanting a bludger to attack our seeker?  You can't pretend that bludger is supposed to be acting that way.  Of course we're not happy with Slytherin!  Can you blame us, really?" Chuck replied scathingly.

"All right then, look at it from my point of view.  Slytherin died a thousand years ago, and back then people were so scared of magic he was likely to be killed by muggles, so of course he was afraid of them.  But _I don't have anything against muggles.  I don't know why the Sorting Hat put me in Slytherin, but it's not because I want muggle-borns to die.  There are lots of nice people in Slytherin.  I never asked for Snape to be so unfair in Potions- I know Colin's better at it than I am.  But since the whole school seems to be against us," -she waved one hand toward the crowd of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who were cheering for Gryffindor- "it's nice to know that at least someone supports us.  If your seeker has the bad luck to end up near where your own beaters had directed the bludger, it's certainly not our fault."_

 Rich was about to reply when the timeout ended and both teams headed back in the air, and he dropped the issue to watch the game.  Colin thought about this though- what would he have done if the Sorting Hat had put him in Slytherin?  Even Hagrid said Slytherins weren't all bad.  Maybe Charon had a point.  Maybe Malfoy was the exception and not the rule.  On the other hand, Colin was certain that _someone from Slytherin had fixed that bludger- and Charon, for one, didn't seem too concerned about it._

The rogue bludger still was pelting right at Harry- but the Weasley twins had dropped their guard, leaving Harry unprotected.  Harry was doing some incredible acrobatics on his broom to avoid the bludger- spirals, zigzags and rolls- he was clearly the best flier on the field.  Colin took loads of pictures and laughed in amazement along with most of the rest of the crowd.  It was tough to tear his eyes away from Harry and watch the rest of the game.  Gryffindor was scoring points in ever heavier rain and slowly catching up with Slytherin's huge lead. The score was Gryffindor 30, Slytherin 130. 

"Wow, he's just brilliant, isn't he," whispered Charon, looking up at Harry, who changed direction suddenly to leave the bludger behind again.  

"I think he's just showing off," said Cruella sulkily.

Charon smiled wryly.  "I wish Harry was in our house instead of Malfoy."  Her nose wrinkled in disgust at Malfoy's name.  Colin wondered if he'd heard that correctly, and saw Chuck and Rich spin around in surprise too.

"Better not let Pansy hear you say that," Peggy warned her.

Colin tried to think of how to ask Charon why she wasn't as horrible as most of the other Slytherins - and wondered how he could ask her which of the Slytherin girls were more like Malfoy (in hope that he could narrow down who the Heir of Slytherin was)- but he couldn't think of a way to ask without insulting her again.  Just then, something on the field distracted him completely.

He saw a bludger hit Harry's arm, hard.  Harry slid sideways on his broom, his right arm hanging useless at one side.  Colin took pictures madly, watching through the viewfinder of his camera.  Then Harry dodged the same bludger when it headed back again, and dove toward Malfoy in what looked like an attack- until Colin saw something gold shimmering just above the spot where Malfoy was sitting.  Colin's hope soared as he squinted through the rain at the sparkling speck.  _Could that be the Snitch?  As Malfoy zoomed out of the way, Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and caught the Snitch.  Then, gripping the broom only with his legs, Harry headed straight for the ground, obviously unable to even try to control his broom with his injured arm.  _

Harry hit the mud with a thud and rolled off his broom as the crowd roared with excitement.  Harry had earned 150 points for catching the Snitch, and the final score was Gryffindor 180, Slytherin 130- Gryffindor had won!

Chuck and Rich were jumping up and down, and Charon and her friends were looking downcast.  

"Er- congratulations," said Charon to Colin, looking sour, before turning away and dragging her feet as she walked away.

"I'm going to make sure Harry's all right," Colin said to Chuck and Rich.  He raced down from the bleachers and onto the field.  

Harry looked unconscious, rain was streaming down his face, but he still had the Snitch in his left hand.  His right arm was sticking out at a very odd angle and was clearly broken.  A crowd of concerned Gryffindors surrounded him.  Professor Lockhart had arrived first to check on Harry.  

Colin saw Harry waking up and tried to call out to him through the crowd, "You were brilliant, Harry!  You really were!  Amazing, the way you dodged that bludger!  And we've won, you beat Slytherin, Harry!" but if Harry heard him he showed no sign of it.  

"Not to worry, Harry.  I'm about to fix your arm!" proclaimed Lockhart loudly.

Harry was trying to sit up, but his face was full of agony.  Clearly, Harry's broken arm was hurting a lot, and Colin expected him to be taken to the hospital wing.  Colin stood on top of the front row seat and took several photos; he thought the pained look on Harry's face would make them really good ones.  

"I don't want a photo of this, Colin!" Colin heard Harry say loudly, and Colin stopped taking pictures, suddenly realizing that if Harry was camera shy when he was feeling well, of course Harry would hate to have someone take a picture of him when he looked about to faint.  Colin felt his face redden and he quickly got down off the bleacher and looked down and pretended to be adjusting his camera.  

The next thing Colin knew, Lockhart twirled his wand and pointed it at Harry's arm, and the arm went from sticking out at a strange angle to a sort of rubbery state that didn't look at all normal, though it seemed to hurt Harry less.  The arm looked like it was made of jello.  Colin gasped in outrage, sputtering mad at Lockhart and more convinced than ever that Lockhart's books were full of rubbish.  Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, could have mended those bones in a second.  Colin was unable to resist the urge to take more photos, and then he watched as Harry tottered off, supported by Ron and Hermione, to the hospital wing while the rest of the school (except for the Slytherins) continued exploding with joy.   Colin suddenly felt really guilty about taking photos after Harry had asked him not to, and he wanted to talk to Harry more than ever, to apologize, but he knew he couldn't fight his way through the crowd.  Maybe if he gave Harry copies of the photos where he was catching the Snitch, Harry would be happier with him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN- THE GIANT SERPENT

            That afternoon there was a huge party in the Gryffindor common room.  The Quidditch team had cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice.  As the food dwindled away, everyone headed off to dinner, though it seemed pointless to try to eat anything more.  But after dinner, the party in the Gryffindor common room was even better than the one preceded it.  The Weasley twins had somehow gotten loads of extra éclairs and desserts from the kitchen, as well as several bottles of something called Butterbeer, and the loud and raucous celebration was fantastic.  Several people who had spent their afternoon studying, like Hermione, put aside their quills for the evening celebration.

The only person who didn't seem to be joining in the party was Ginny.  She had come to the game, of course- bundled up extra heavily by Percy in warm robes, because she was still looking so pale.  By now, Colin had to remind himself that this wasn't her normal state.  After the game, Ginny had seemed happy enough, eating some tarts and writing in her diary- but after awhile the diary sat open on her lap and she was staring at the wall of the common room with that now-familiar glazed look for several minutes at a time.  She seemed to be waiting for something.  Colin was willing to bet she was waiting to report back to Harry.  But then Colin overheard Ron talking to Seamus Finnigan about how Lockhart had removed all the bones in Harry's arm and saying it would take all night to re-grow them in the hospital wing.  When Colin saw Ginny stand up and sneak out of the common room unnoticed after hours, he was tempted to follow her just to corner her alone and ask her what she knew about the Chamber of Secrets- but it wasn't worth the risk of getting caught.  

Colin was more anxious that ever to talk to Harry, but he knew that Harry had to be just furious with him, since Harry had asked him not to take a photo while he was injured and Colin hadn't been able to resist.  And come to think of it, Harry was missing out on the party too- and he was the hero of the Quidditch match!  And then Colin realized that apologizing to Harry was the perfect way to get Harry alone- something he'd been trying to do for a month- and then ask him about whether he needed help with the Chamber of Secrets!  There were just too many reasons to break his agreement with Professor McGonagall tonight.  Colin decided that it was worth the risk of getting caught.  If Harry was stuck in the hospital wing alone, there was no way for him to avoid Colin.  And if Colin told Harry what he'd already seen, he was sure Harry would welcome his help.

As the party faded and people started going up to bed, Colin grabbed some leftover grapes from the party and slipped out the door heading toward the hospital wing, where Harry was evidently quarantined for the night.  Colin avoided the hallway with the writing on the wall (where Ginny probably was headed to, he thought), headed down a few staircases, toward the West Tower, and up the staircases toward the hospital wing.

            Colin didn't run into anyone until he had already gone several stories up on the spiral staircase.  Then suddenly, as he rounded a corner on the stairs, he saw something large and bright green in the corridor ahead.  It was an enormous serpent, headed toward the entrance to the hospital wing, with its back turned to him.  Colin's jaw dropped in amazement- the serpent had to be at least twenty feet long, and as thick as an oak trunk.  He wanted to run away but seemed to have forgotten how his legs worked.  And anyway, the one person Colin wanted to run to for help was the person the serpent seemed headed for anyway- Harry.  This had to be Slytherin's monster.  Colin might be too late to save Harry, but he had to try.  But then, if he and Harry failed, someone was bound to need to know what they had to fight.  He had to tell someone, but there was no time.  There was only one thing he could do.  Colin took a deep breath, steeled his courage, set down his grapes, and raised his camera to take pictures.  Just as he heard the shutter click loudly, he was shocked to notice a small red-headed figure was walking beside the serpent with her eyes closed.

It was Ginny Weasley.  His mind raced with confusion for half a second.

Then Ginny, hearing the echoing camera clicks in the empty corridor, turned around, and Colin heard a hissing noise much like what he had heard coming from the behind the bathroom door on Halloween.  The serpent stopped and turned two great yellowish eyes on Colin.

            Colin felt his whole body seizing up instantly; he couldn't have run away if he'd wanted to, his legs resisted any effort to lift them from the floor.  His hands were frozen in front of his face with his finger still pressed down on the camera shutter, but even the camera seemed to have seized up and a horrible melted smell came from it.  Colin's eyes would not close, but his view of the staircase dimmed to pitch black and from somewhere far away he heard a scream that sounded something like Professor McGonagall.  He felt his brain slowing down and with what dim perception he had left, he knew that he had just been petrified by Slytherin's giant serpent.

CHAPTER NINETEEN- HOSPITAL WING

            Colin felt a splash of something running over his neck and body and felt himself finally starting to relax from his rigid state.  Dimly, his eyes began to focus and he saw a woman with a great jug of pinkish juice.  He tried to close his eyes but couldn't, and they were starting to water.   The woman seemed to be helping him stiffly into a sitting position, but his body was resisting being moved at all. 

"Blink if you can hear me," she commanded.  Her voice was faint and echoing, as if from a long distance away.

Colin realized it was Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse.

With great effort Colin squeezed his eyes closed and open again.

"Very good.  This one will be fine," she said absently.

Madam Pomfrey forced one of his arms down a bit (they had been right in front of his face), and curled his fingers around a goblet of more of the pinkish juice.

            "Here, drink this carefully, and Professor Snape will talk to you all in a moment," said Madam Pomfrey.   Colin tried to ask what was going on, but his tongue was too heavy to move.

            Drinking the juice was far more effective in reviving Colin than feeling it splashing over him.  He tipped a bit of the liquid into his mouth and let it roll around on his tongue, and then he tilted his head back and felt a trickle moving down his throat.  He immediately felt his innards soften into a dull aching state, and with some effort his lungs expanded with a deep breath and he moved his remaining hand away from his face.  Then Colin swallowed the rest of the juice and set down his glass.  

As he began to wonder what happened, he remembered the whole scene- the giant serpent, with Ginny beside it- the great, yellow eyes of the serpent- what was Ginny doing?  How did that serpent attack him from so far away?  He had been petrified, that was why his body felt so stiff and sore.  And this pinkish stuff must be mandrake juice.  Of course they would have to start by splashing it over him, since a statue can't swallow.   Colin was still unable to talk to anyone, since his tongue could only barely move.  He turned his head stiffly to look around.

            Colin realized he was in the hospital wing.  Harry wasn't here, but Mrs. Norris was mewing stiffly in Filch's arms off to his right, and to his left Colin saw a row of hospital beds like his own.  In the beds were Penelope (the prefect girl he'd run into outside Platform 9¾), Hermione, Nearly Headless Nick (the Gryffindor Ghost), and another boy that Colin did not know.  Each of them was either petrified or in some state of being restored.  Snape was standing in the doorway overseeing the process and seemed ready to make an announcement as soon as everyone could hear him again.  Colin's eyes goggled at the row of petrified students.  _What had happened?  How long had he been petrified?  Were they all attacked on the same night?  Had they caught that huge serpent?  Do they even know it's a serpent?  What was Ginny doing with it?  He was full of questions but unable to ask any of them until his tongue would move properly.  The wait was agonizing._

            Finally, Snape began to speak.  "Madam Pomfrey has just given you Mandrake Juice to restore you.  Each of you was petrified at some point this year; presumably all of you were attacked by the beast from the Chamber of Secrets.  Some of you have been petrified for quite some time.  It is now the end of May."

            Colin could hardly believe his ears!  He wished he could ask if he'd heard correctly.  He tilted his head to look out the window just to check the season, but saw only the pitch black night.  He thought hard- the Quidditch match- he had gotten petrified in November.  If Snape was right, that meant he'd missed six months!  But his tongue was still too heavy to manage saying anything, so he grunted in surprise and kept listening.

            Snape continued, "This monster is now considered too great a danger to the students for Hogwarts to continue to remain open.  The identity of the Heir of Slytherin is still a mystery.  The Hogwarts Express will therefore be taking you home first thing tomorrow.  If any of you can identify your attacker, I urge you-"

            But Snape was interrupted by Ginny Weasley's arrival in the hospital wing, with two adults who had to be her parents beside her.  Ginny was silently sobbing, tears cascading down her face, and she was covered with slime and muck from head to toe.  Her dad shared her vivid red hair and looked stunned, while her mother kept fussing and looked like she'd only recently been crying as hard as Ginny.  Snape looked even more startled to see Ginny than Colin felt.  Colin's mind puzzled again over the image- Ginny, with closed eyes, walking beside the giant serpent.  But that was months ago, evidently.  What on earth had happened to her tonight? 

            "Miss Weasley!" Snape exclaimed, as her teary-eyed but happy parents spoke in low voices to Madam Pomfrey, who immediately got her a bed and drew a curtain around her.  Snape drew near to join the conversation happening just outside the curtain as Ginny changed out of her filthy robes and into a hospital gown inside the curtain.  Colin strained to hear but the conversation was too far away.  Snape's eyes flashed as he asked several questions.  Finally, he addressed them all once again.

            "It appears that the beast from the Chamber of Secrets may have been killed tonight.  You will remain here until Madam Pomfrey is satisfied that each of you is well."  

At this, Snape swept out of the infirmary, and with him, any hope that Colin's questions would be answered.  The hospital wing was filled with silence and a few frustrated grunts from the row of petrified students.  Colin struggled to guess what had happened.  Ginny and Harry must have managed to kill the monster after all!  But there had clearly been many more students attacked besides him.  Were they all attacked the same night he was?  How could it have taken Harry so long to defeat the serpent?  

Colin managed to call out thickly to the Weasleys, "Wha happa?" but they were busy tending to Ginny and didn't answer.

            Then Ron arrived at the hospital wing with a dazed looking Professor Lockhart.  Like Ginny, they were both covered from head to foot in sludge.  Ron muttered something to Madam Pomfrey, who set up a bed for Professor Lockhart.  Colin puzzled over this- was Lockhart helping Harry?  Colin thought perhaps he had lost his faith in Lockhart too quickly.  Ron headed straight for Hermione's bed, grinning broadly.  

"Hermione! You're OK!"

            "Yeh," she managed, shortly.

            "You had it right Hermione, Slytherin's monster was a basilisk!" said Ron.  "Harry killed it!  But that's not all, the Chamber of Secrets was in Myrtle's toilet and Harry had to use Parseltongue to open the chamber." 

"Mmmm! Haaa-" Hermione squealed in astonishment.

 Ron lowered his voice.  "You-Know-Who was the Heir, he was controlling Ginny through Riddle's diary!  He took her down into the chamber and she almost died before Harry saved her."

            "Teh us moah," Colin moaned from the next bed over, shocked.  Poor Ginny!  

            Ron looked around the room and realized that five formerly petrified people were all straining to hear his words.  He decided to take center stage, so he stood at the foot of Hermione's bed where he could see everyone.

            "D'you all want to know what happened?"

            "Yes!" was the unanimous loud reply- even Filch, Lockhart, and Madam Pomfrey wanted to hear this story. 

Colin saw Ron glance toward Ginny's bed nervously.   Colin thought about Ginny's diary and realized that Ginny hadn't been helping Harry after all.  Before he had time to think things through, Ron began.

"Gin-, I mean, er- a student found You-Know-Who's diary and it controlled them so they opened the Chamber of Secrets.  Hermione had just worked out what the monster was when she was petrified, and we found a piece of paper in her hand that told us it was a basilisk.  Its eyes turn you to stone.  You lot would have died, except none of you looked directly into its eyes- Mrs. Norris saw the reflection in a puddle, Colin looked through his camera viewfinder, Justin saw it through Nearly Headless Nick- who was already dead- and Hermione and- actually, I don't even know your name, sorry-"

            "Penny," the girl offered thickly.

"Hermione and Penny saw it in a mirror.  Finally, today You-Know-Who took Ginny down into the Chamber of Secrets and wrote another message on the wall- 'Her Skeleton will lie in the chamber forever'- so Harry and I had to do something.  Ginny is my sister, I had to save her.  And they were about to shut the school down."  Ron puffed up with pride at this point.   "Professor McGonagall asked Professor Lockhart to try to fight the beast tonight.  So Harry and I went to help him."

Colin felt a surge of respect for Lockhart.  How could he have judged so quickly, after all the amazing things Lockhart had done!  Then Colin saw Ron glanced over in disgust at Lockhart.  Lockhart seemed enraptured and transfixed by the story, and clearly had no idea he was hearing about himself. Colin puzzled over this as Ron continued.

"Lockhart was packing to leave town.  He said that everything in his books had been done by other wizards, and he made them forget they'd done it.  He was going to just take off and leave her down there," Ron's shook his head in amazement, and flecks of slime flew out of his hair and splattered on the floor.

            There were a few gasps in the room at this news, including a loud one from Hermione.  

Colin distinctly heard Lockhart exclaim, "Oh how horrible!  How could he?"

Colin felt stunned.  This was even worse than he'd ever imagined.  Lockhart was a complete fake?  Ginny opened the Chamber of Secrets?  Harry had taken months to figure out most of what Colin knew back in November?  Colin had expected that Harry or Lockhart would be so much braver and smarter than he was.  Suddenly everyone seemed so- well- human.

            "So we fought Professor Lockhart, Harry disarmed him and I threw his wand out the window!  Then we forced him to come with us to the Chamber of Secrets.  Then Lockhart tried to steal my wand and make Harry and I forget everything- he was going to leave us down there, can you believe it?  But he accidentally hit himself with the spell and he's forgotten who he is."

 "Lockhart's memory spell also caused the chamber to partly cave in, leaving me on one side and Harry on the other.  So I kept Lockhart subdued while I lifted loads of heavy boulders as big as Quaffles to allow Harry a way to get back.  Meanwhile, Harry went looking for Ginny.  He killed the basilisk, and he saved her, and he destroyed the diary so You-Know-Who has gone too.  Harry and Ginny came out through the hole I'd made in the landslide."

"Dumbledore's back, and he says we're going to have a feast, right now, tonight!" said Ron.  "So I reckon they're not closing the school down anymore!"

Everyone cheered at this, having gotten most of their ability to move their tongues again.  Even Filch looked rather happy about it.  _OK, so maybe Harry's human, thought Colin, __but he's definitely still a hero._

Ron was beaming like the sun when he returned to Hermione's bedside.  

"You did it!  You solved it!" cried Hermione happily.  Then she gasped again.  "I can't believe I've been petrified for a couple of months, I've missed so many important lessons, how will I ever catch up?"

Colin's head was still reeling.  He'd missed half a year.  And then a happy thought occurred to him.  _He didn't have to pay for the rest of the school year because he had missed the whole thing!  His next thought was of Dennis, and wanted to send an owl home right away, but his wasn't sure if his fingers were flexible enough to write.  It seemed as though everyone was anxious to go the feast, but Madam Pomfrey wasn't letting him go anywhere just yet.  Ron was reluctant to go to the feast without Hermione or Ginny, but Madam Pomfrey's increasing agitation at the mess on his robes and her demands that he either leave or change into a hospital robe were enough to convince him to go._

"I never even saw it, there were just these big eyes," said Justin, shaking his head.  "I was so convinced Potter was behind it all when I heard him speak Parseltongue."

"I saw it!  I took a picture of it before I was petrified," said Colin, looking around for his camera.  

"Your camera was melted by the gaze of the basilisk," said Hermione simply.  "I went to the library to figure out which snakes could petrify and it had to be a basilisk, I just knew it!  But I got petrified before I could tell anyone except Penelope," she added.

 "What's Parseltongue, anyway?" asked Colin.

"Snake language- you know, hisses and stuff.  Harry can talk to snakes," said Justin.

"But- I always thought snakes didn't have ears…" Colin puzzled.

Justin shrugged, and they both looked at Hermione, but Madam Pomfrey was busy checking her reflexes and bending her elbows and knees, so Hermione probably hadn't heard the question.

"I would never have imagined that anything could harm a ghost," said Nearly Headless Nick, who had originally died 500 years ago in a botched beheading.  Nick tipped his head back on straight and tucked it in place under a large ruff at his neck.

Finally, Professor McGonagall arrived in the hospital wing and instructed Madam Pomfrey to allow them all to attend the feast once she had finished examining them.  "Owls have been sent to your families to reassure them of your restoration.  I'm sure they will be anxious to hear from all of you," she told them.

The feast was like nothing Colin would ever see again.  Everyone was in their pajamas, and the feast lasted all night long.  Harry and Ron won so many points for killing the basilisk that Gryffindor won the House Cup for the second year in a row.  The end of year exams were cancelled, to Colin's great relief.  Most of Colin's classmates were hugging him or patting him on the back in relief at seeing him again.  Rich made a great production of throwing away an old, shriveled rabbit's foot and a wilted four leaf clover that he'd been carrying around since November.  Felicity hugged him so tightly that he'd ended up with one of her curlers stuck in his hair.

In the middle of the feast, an owl arrived from Dennis.  Colin ripped it open anxiously.

Hello Colin,

Professor McGonagall sent a letter saying that she expected you would be turned back from stone tonight and sent home on the train tomorrow.  I can't wait to hear from you!  I almost tried to sneak up there to see you at Christmas Holiday when Professor McGonagall wrote to say you wouldn't be coming home, but I didn't know how to find Floo powder or a fireplace to get to London, and they said the thing that attacked you hasn't been caught yet.  

Nothing else is new here- except Ian asked why you're not at school with him and I told him you'd been accepted somewhere better on scholarship.  I've been washing a bunch of cars to help pay for next year, I've already saved up 200 pounds!  I've had to hide it under my mattress so dad won't find it and spend it.  Mum's coming to visit in July.  Mum and grandma were upset when we didn't hear from you at Christmas, so Dad and I told them you'd been kept at school with pneumonia and I sent Mum a few letters this spring pretending to be from you.

Mrs. Godfrey and I have been really worried.  Please send a note telling us you're all right.

-Dennis

Colin sent the owl back with as long a letter to Dennis as he could manage to write with his stiff hand, describing everything that had happened, explaining that he wouldn't be coming home until the regular end of term after all, and reassuring everyone he was fine.  He really did feel fine; he was just stiffer and sorer than he had ever been in his life.

The last days of the term in June passed quickly in a blaze of sunshine.  Professor McGonagall called him aside into her office the day after the feast.

"Mr. Creevey," she began, "I'd like to discuss your financial and academic status for next year."  

Colin nodded.  He had been expecting something like this.

"As you have no doubt realized, you do not need to concern yourself with tuition payments for the months of the year that you spent petrified.  We have calculated a small refund and returned it to the Malfoy Trust," said Professor McGonagall steadily.

Colin breathed a big sigh of relief.  "Thank you, professor."

"Furthermore, I assumed that you would be needing a scholarship for the next school year and I filed an application on your behalf while you were petrified," Professor McGonagall continued.  Colin's face brightened.

"Unfortunately, you were attacked only a few months after beginning your magical education.  That, combined with the cancellation of end of term exams, leaves us again with no way to evaluate how much you have learned.  So we are, unfortunately, unable to offer you a full scholarship for next year, because we cannot evaluate your performance relative to your peers."

"But… potions, I was really good at potions…" Colin protested.  "I made the best Sticky Solution…"

"Professor Snape has already chosen which students merit a potions scholarship, and your name was not on the list."

"But-"

"However, I'm pleased to say that we are able to offer you a partial scholarship of seven hundred galleons, contributed by the Peter Pettigrew Memorial Fund."  

Colin felt a great deal of relief.  "Thank you, Professor," he smiled. 

"The fund honors the memory of a Gryffindor who was killed by the followers of You-Know-Who. The award is given to a Gryffindor who demonstrates a dedication to fighting the Dark Arts.  Your obvious admiration of Mr. Potter has been taken as a demonstration of that dedication," she continued.

Colin nodded and smiled.

Then Professor McGonagall's mouth tightened.  "There is a second issue I must discuss with you, Mr. Creevey: I warned you after your last detention that you were not to go roaming the school after hours, and that you would lose the opportunities to earn money from the staff if you broke the rules again.  However, the night you were petrified, you were out after hours in an obvious violation of that restriction.  The rules have been put in place for your safety, Creevey, and if you had obeyed them it's likely that you would never have been petrified in the first place.  You were found with a bunch of grapes at your side, headed toward the hospital wing where Potter was recovering from the de-boning in his arm.  Do you have an explanation for this behavior?"

Colin tried to think fast. He didn't like to lie, but he thought bending the truth might be a good idea under the circumstances.  "Ginny," he said simply.  "I'd seen her leaving the common room.  She looked so pale, and I'd seen her walking around several times in a trance, like she was sleepwalking or something.  I thought she might know something about the Chamber of Secrets and I saw her walking with the basilisk before I was petrified.  I even got a photo, only my camera got melted."

Professor McGonagall looked closely at him through the spectacles perched on the end of her nose, surprised and suspicious.  "You thought Miss Weasley had something to do with the Chamber of Secrets?  Why?"

"I saw her- the night Mrs. Norris was petrified- floating in midair and there was paint all down her robes.  She didn't seem to be conscious of what she was doing and so I thought it was important for me to find out," Colin held his breath hoping.

"I see.  Well, your actions were clearly in violation of the rules, and it was foolish of you to take on this kind of investigative work on your own, especially without sharing this information with others.  You should have gone straight to a teacher with information that Ginny seemed to be enchanted!  However, if you had not been petrified, it appears that if you had chosen to speak, you would have been able to tell us where the chamber was, what was in it, and give us a good start on who was controlling it before any students were attacked at all.  I will speak to Professor Dumbledore about this, and see if that merits extending the opportunity to earn money from the staff while you are here," she said thoughtfully.

"The last issue deals with your education more directly," Professor McGonagall continued.  "Happily, the cancellation of the end of year exams leaves us with no reason not to promote you to second year.  However, I do have serious concerns about your ability to keep pace with your classmates next year after missing so many lessons.  Therefore, I have arranged to grant you a limited exemption from the Decree for Reasonable Restriction of Underage Wizardry over this summer holiday.  You may attempt to catch up on the work you have missed, with lessons and homework done by owl and practice spells done at home.  You may not use magic outside of your home, however, and you are not to do any spells which risk being noticed by the muggle community."

This hadn't occurred to Colin at all.  He'd never even heard of the Decree for whatever it was.  "Er- thank you," he said.

"That is all, Mr. Creevey."

Before he turned to go, he paused and asked, "Er- Professor McGonagall, is there someone I can write to and thank the Peter… er… the fund providing me partial funding for next year?"  He decided he might as well start out on the right foot with his benefactors this year.

"No.  Peter Pettigrew's mother and father have both passed away, and he had no siblings."  Professor McGonagall looked very sad.

"Ah.  I see," said Colin, weakly.  "Thank you again, Professor."

Ginny, once she had recovered from her shame at being tricked by You-Know-Who into opening the Chamber of Secrets, was acting perfectly happy.  She had a rosiness in her cheeks again and spent much more time talking.  She came up to Colin in the common room one day.

"All right there, Colin?"

"All right.  Looks like I've got a way to pay for part of next year.  And you?"

"Never better."  She smiled cheerfully.

"So, Ginny," Colin began carefully, "Do you remember anything of what you did while that diary was controlling you?"

Ginny shook her head no, shrugging.  

The words came tumbling from Colin's mouth before he knew it.  "'Cause I was sort of wondering who was with you, crying in that toilet on Halloween, and why you knocked me over a few weeks before that, I probably wouldn't have gotten detention if you hadn't, and-"

"I did what?"  Ginny looked astonished.  "I'm sorry Colin!  I don't remember anything!  Someone crying in that bathroom- that would have been Moaning Myrtle, the ghost, she's always having tantrums and that's why it's out of order.  Did I really knock you over?  I suppose it's lucky that I don't remember all the awful things I've done this year.  Dumbledore says loads of wizards have been tricked by You-Know-Who before.  I'm just lucky Harry and Ron were able to get me out of that Chamber," she blushed slightly.

"Yeah, Harry is amazing, isn't he?"  Colin couldn't resist asking, "D'you remember anything about how he fought off that basilisk?"

"No, once I think I passed out before Harry got there.  But when I woke up, Harry had a sword and a bird and the Sorting Hat.  I heard about it after, though.  I think Harry told You-Know-Who that Dumbledore was the greatest wizard in the world, and then the bird and hat and sword sort of appeared.  And the bird poked out the basilisk's eyes, and then he used the sword to kill it."

"Why didn't the bird get petrified?" asked Colin.

"I've no idea.  But he was a magic bird, maybe he was too powerfully magical to be affected?"

There was a thoughtful pause, and then Colin asked, "Why did Harry call Dumbledore the greatest wizard?  Isn't Harry more powerful than Dumbledore?"

"Well… he might be someday… but Dumbledore has done all sorts of things! I think he's just as amazing as Harry, he's very powerful!  Dumbledore was in Gryffindor too, you know, and he used to teach Transfiguration.  Hang on, let me get the card from Ron's Chocolate Frog collection," she said, dashing across the room and returning with what looked like a baseball trading card.  Colin turned it over and read:

Albus Dumbledore

Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel.  Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and ten pin bowling.

"I had no idea.  And- dragon blood and alchemy, that means he's good at potions," muttered Colin.  "I was beginning to think I was the only Gryffindor who was really good at potions…"

Ginny laughed.  "You're forgetting Hermione.  She's good at everything."

Colin's respect for Professor Dumbledore went soaring as he thought through what this meant.  When he mentioned this later on, Chuck said Dumbledore is the only one that they reckon You-Know-Who was afraid of, which meant he must be very powerful indeed.

A few days later Colin was relaxing outside in the sunshine when he would normally have been in Defense Against the Dark Arts Classes (which were cancelled since Lockhart had gone to get his memory back).  Colin was looking over the lake and feeding the giant squid some toast, while Chuck and Rich were packing their trunks.  Colin had just tipped everything back into his cauldron in seconds and didn't need to spend time packing.

"Hello, Mr. Creevey," Professor Dumbledore began, approaching him and folding his tall, thin frame into a sitting posture alongside Colin on the edge of the lake, so that his long, flowing white beard trailed over his knees and into the water.   "Professor McGonagall has spoken with me about the night you were petrified, as to the matter of how to punish you for being out of bounds for the second time.  She indicated that you were following Miss Weasley out of bounds and in fact knew a great deal of useful information before you were petrified."

Colin nodded and looked up at him mutely, hoping…

"Your punishment shall be a detention.  Since the year has ended, no points will be taken from Gryffindor.  You will serve your detention after you return next year," Dumbledore announced.

"Thank you sir! I-" began Colin.

"However, Colin, I cannot impress upon you how important it is to consider your priorities before you act," said Dumbledore, seriously.  "Your first detention was given for going out of bounds in order to earn money.  Money, while essential to live, is hardly important compared with truth, bravery, or love.  If you forget that, you will lose the opportunity to earn money from the staff and faculty here.  But more importantly, you will lose your integrity.  It takes courage to choose poverty, but there are times when that is the right thing to do."

"Your second stroll out of bounds- or at least, the second that I know about-" continued Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling, "-was to follow Miss Weasley.  Despite the fact that you had already learned a great deal by following her, you had not shared it with a teacher.  Curiosity can be a very dangerous thing, Colin.  You would do well to strive to become someone worth following, rather than striving to follow Miss Weasley- or Mr. Potter."

Colin turned crimson at this, as he wondered how Dumbledore knew he'd been following Harry.  And suddenly he realized that he never had ended the finding spell, and Colin wondered how and when he could ever get close enough to Harry's glasses again to do so.

"Yes, sir," Colin said shakily.

"Finally… I find that he likes to eat Haggis best," Dumbledore said, winking as he glanced down at the toast Colin had been feeding to the giant squid.  

Colin smiled.  He half wished he still had a camera to take a picture of Dumbledore, and he was amazed that taking Dumbledore's picture had never even crossed his mind until this moment. For now, though, just knowing that people like Dumbledore and Harry existed was much more important than whether he had their pictures on the wall for a month.  He somehow knew he would still be admiring Harry and Dumbledore next year, or the year after that.

But Colin also realized how much he'd changed this year.  In many ways, he had already taken Dumbledore's second piece of advice.  He didn't just want to follow or help Harry anymore.  Colin was ready to fight You-Know-Who or Slytherin's beast himself.  He wanted to be everything his new benefactor would have hoped of him.

Colin shared a compartment with Chuck and Rich on the Hogwarts Express going home the next day, and had arranged to use Floo powder and the fireplace of some vicar in Liverpool as his transit stop getting home from Diagon Alley.  He enjoyed the train ride playing Exploding Snap and reading the cards from Chuck's Chocolate Frog collection.

"Can I borrow your card of Dumbledore?  I wanted to get a photo but I haven't got a camera anymore," Colin asked.

"Sure, you can have it, I think I have three of him already," said Chuck.

"You'll have to meet me in Diagon Alley when you go to buy your books for next year.  I'll send you owls, okay?" Chuck asked Colin and Rich.

"Colin!" he heard Dennis' voice as he emerged from Platform 9 3/4.  "You're all right!  Have you got a scar or anything from being petrified?  Did it hurt?  How did it feel?"

"Dennis, I've got more things to tell you than there are minutes this summer," said Colin, as they pushed Colin's cauldron toward the underground.


End file.
